


The Potioneers

by omnenomnom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bonding, Companionable Snark, Estranged Trio, F/M, Gen, Long, POV Third Person, Post-War, Potions, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 53
Words: 196,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24262132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omnenomnom/pseuds/omnenomnom
Summary: They need each other unfortunately. Hermione has tricked Draco under her tutelage, arrogant attitude and all. But she would be simple to think he would accept it quietly. They have both have secrets to hide, old wounds better left to fester, and a world full of mermaids, dragons, and magic to explore.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 264
Kudos: 222





	1. A Chain to Bind Them

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is finished, Perhaps and epilogue in the distance future if there is interest.

Hermione was enjoying the early fall morning next to her potions table. Not that she could ever really feel the seasons in her lab. Everything was perfected isolated, after all a stray oak leaf could cause an explosion in the wrong cauldron.

She had spent the better part of a week perfecting the base of her Cure-All potion. She really was sick of the misnomer as it should have really been called Cure-Most. However, after hours upon hours of diluting and titrating she had gotten it to cover all muggle aliments; however, she still needed one more ingredient to finish the magic aliments half of the potion. She needed a pilot and she was running out of time. For maybe the hundredth time in her life she wished she wasn't so useless on a broom.

Regardless, it was time for a break. Her tea pot steamed on the burner a table over. She happily called it over and ordered it to pour into her waiting mug of bagged spices. A nice black tea, for this (assumedly brisk) autumn day.

However, as it always seems to happen, before she could so much as sip her drink a rather annoying bell rang by her floo. She considered ignoring it for a moment, but the second round was enough to pull her away from her drink.

With a sigh, she glanced at the base of the bell that had fallen silent. The plaque below stated INDIA prompting her to grab a loose hanging scarf from her coat rack. With a mildly irate yank, she wrapped the scarf around her, feeling the charms take hold as she slipped into another skin before stepping into the floo before her tea had even stopped steaming.

000000000000000000

Draco was sick of this rotting place. It was always hot. The food burned his tongue. There was dirt everywhere and not nearly enough alcohol to tolerate it. But, oh yes, he did try. Which is precisely how he found himself sweating, unhappy, and grilling the portly man named Timbala in front of him for answers

"This is your bottle yes?" He tapped, possibly slammed, the potion container on the counter. The embossed three-eyed cat head matched the ragged wooden sign swinging outside the door.

"Yes, sir it is." The man was a wall. He did not fall to any bribes, threats, or general grandstanding. It threw Draco out of his element.

"Then you made this skelegro, yes?" He was speaking so slowly one would assume his Many-Tongues potion was malfunctioning. But no, it was just the seething rage of being stuck in a hot shop with no answers.

"No, I did not make that potion." Draco was ready to swing at the man. He was burly and the way his arms were crossed promised that Draco shouldn't act on that impulse. But oh, he wanted to.

"Then. Who. Did." Don't hit him. Don't hit him.

"Not. I." Replied the man behind the counter. Again. For the fourth time.

"If you didn't then who did!" Deep breaths were all that was keeping him from exploding.

"The owner of the shop." Draco started at this. A new answer possibly? A way out of this looping conversation.

"Fantastic! Who is that?"

"Not I!" Draco was contemplating hitting him anyway when an elder woman breezed in. Her long black hair was braided back and fell down her right shoulder. It was streaked with grey and her wrinkled face wreaked of wisdom.

"She is." Draco sent one more look of pure hatred at the shopkeep before turning his full attention to the new comer. A deep green Sari was embossed with vibrant gold, a small detail but indicated a taste for the lavish. Considering the state of the shop, that was something he could work with.

"Hello, I am Ahmi. I hear you had some questions?" The elder woman drawled. Draco was always better with women. He blamed years of his mother's horrid social events. They just ate his charm right up.

"I do. I appreciate your kindness in assisting me." Draco ignored the scoff from the shopkeep and focused his attention on the new target. "Is there a way I could speak with such a lovely creature like yourself in private?"

"There is a parlor in the back. Please join me for tea." She spun around and passed through a curtain clearly inviting him to follow. He smirked one more time at the shopkeep who, for the first time since Draco entered the dark shop, had a suspicious smile on his face. Draco desperately hoped he wasn't in charge of the tea.

000000000000000000000000000

At first Hermione had frozen. It had been a long time since she felt the unadulterated fear of the war. It was only her cold and calculating logic that brought her back to reality. She listened to Timbala give him the work around for what must have been at least a third time by the sound of the youngest Malfoy's tone. He might have called her in on her day off but sometimes she did love that man.

She breezed into the room in her sari and the shift in attitude was immediately perceptible. She ignored the false charms and smiles and called him back to the parlor to deal with in private. After all, what could he want with a poor apothecary?

She led him through the dark wooden building, past rows of potions, ingredients, teas and other stock both magical and muggle. When she was sure he was thoroughly lost from the corridor's confundus charm she turned into the parlor.

It was the whole reason she selected this building after all. She renovated the rest of it to fit her needs but she left this parlor exactly the same. Spices and ingredients hung from wooden support beams and the fire in the floo provided just enough light to make out the sturdy wooden table, two chairs and a basic kitchen.

Taking the chair furthest from the door she waited for her old classmate to sit. He was clearly over confident in his abilities to woo her.

"Miss?" He started confidently, but she was willing to play the game.

"You may call me Ahmi." She responded as she gestured her wand at the kettle on the stove. It may be significantly warmer but she still wanted her tea. "Why are you here, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Ah, you know of me?" He smiled confidently and Hermione had to resist rolling her eyes.

"Of your family, yes. But the last time I inquired they had no interest in Delhi."

"No, we tend to stay on our side of the pond, or two." He chuckled in a way that she was sure was somewhat endearing but in her experience, Malfoy laughing was never a good thing.

"So then, what are you doing in my shop?" The kettle screamed and she called over two tea cups and two of the bags she stored in the pantry. As an afterthought she called over some milk and sugar. No reason to be impolite.

"Well you see that's a rather interesting story." She raised an eyebrow as she poured his tea first before her own. Leaning back she gestured to go on.

"Well I happened to injure myself while visiting some of the local temples." Hermione was sure that if Malfoy was wandering the streets of Delhi he was not visiting temples. "And as it would happen, I slipped down some steps and broke my arm."

"You should be more careful. Blood spilt in the temples can be considered a promise to the gods." She replied ominously. He confidently waved her off.

"Well, unfortunately we were out quite late and none of the major magical medical centers happen to be open. By pure chance we happen upon a local emergency clinic." Hermione was mildly irate. Those clinics for locals in need of care, not drunken vagrants too pissed to stand straight.

"After a sizable donation they agreed to give me some skelegro for my arm. Of course, I was reluctant to take it and would have much rather seen a healer. However, you really can't risk time with these things, can you?"

"I suppose you cannot, Mr. Malfoy." He was including her in all the right places. Just enough input to feel active in the conversation but not enough to actually contribute. As if even a second wasted on anything she were to say would be a tragedy.

"Well, as my friends and I prepared for a night of foul-tasting suffering."

 _Most likely by the addition of more alcohol and torturing kitten_ s. Hermione thought to herself.

"When, low and behold, while the bitter flavor of skelegro was still toe curling, there was no pain! You could imagine the shock as, over in the Queen's land, ours comes with a night of screaming."

 _The Queen's land? What a pretentious- Does this ever work on anyone?_ She was quite enjoying her tea after all. She had gotten a surprise show to go with it.

"And so, I went back to this small clinic in disbelief as my arm had completely healed!" He clearly meant it as a compliment but it came off more as an insult to the very clinic she helped trained.

"That tends to be the point of Skelegro, is it not?" Somewhat stalled, he half chuckled and nodded along.

"Indeed. Well after some pestering they gave me the bottle, which led me straight to this shop." Hermione could not help the look of skepticism that crossed her face. 'This shop' is almost impossible to find unless you know what you are looking for or truly in need. He probably bribed or threatened his way here.

"And I just must know how you have done it!" Hermione reacted genuinely to that one. It is a well-known practice within the industry not to ask other potioneers how potions are made without genuine interest and a good bit of groveling. She sipped her tea as he clearly waited in anticipation. She could take some groveling.

"Well, for emergency breaks there is no need to regrow the whole bone." To her surprise he zeroed in, fully focused on her response. "Thus we are able to dilute the tonic to allow slower recalcification of the bone."

"Yes? Do go on." He urged. Somewhat skeptical she continued her explanation as he followed every word closely.

"Since the calcium is not being pulled from the surrounding cells in such large amounts, as when it's needed to grow bones, it is much less painful. It is a process that takes about the same time as a full regrowth treatment but significantly less pain."

"Pardon? I don't quite understand what you mean." The hint of impatience in his voice reminded her of who she was talking to. Pulled from the moment she quite remembered that she has no obligation to help the man in front of her.

"It is quite more than I am up to explaining today. I appreciate your interest but I have some things to work on."

"That is perfectly fine, I can come back. I will be here all week!" He replied in a cheery voice but there was an underlying hint of ice.

"I will be out of the country for the next few weeks unfortunately."

"I can floo in. Cost is hardly a concern."

"I am a very busy woman." She responded firmly.

"Then I will pay for your time." He responded flatly. The cordial conversation was over and it was time to get to the meat of things.

"I am aware of who you are, Mr. Malfoy. Not just of your name, but who you are, what you did and what you do. What exactly does a corporate giant like yourself want with my little old potions shop." Clearly sensing the shift in mood Malfoy dropped his act too.

"You think I want this rickety old place? Hardly."

"Then why are you here? You want my recipe for Skelegro? I find that hard to believe as it's hardly profitable." As a rule, the standard formula was regulated by the ministry and would never be allowed to be sold above a certain price as it was a 'vital-to-life potion'.

"I want to know how you did it. Consider it a side project of mine." He replied simply sipping his tea. "Excellent tea by the way."

"Why?" She questioned, her eyes narrrowed.

"Because," he paused for a second as if to formulate a thought. "You make it better than me. And that drives me insane."

"Pardon?" It was Hermione's turn to balk. A Malfoy, admitting an unknown was better than him? Call the Prophet the wizard had lost his mind.

"I want to know. I have my own reasons."

"Well then you will be left wanting then. Now if you'll excuse me." She pushed her chair back in an act that felt oddly similar to running away when his hand caught hers.

"You seem to hate me quite a bit for someone who doesn't know me." He stated baldly.

"I know you. I know what you have done. Your attitude shows what a selfish spoiled child you are. Well, for once, you won't be getting what you want." She ripped her hand away and headed towards the door.

"You may know of me. But, while we are tossing around accusations. you are not who you say you are either Ms. Ahmi."

Hermione had her face schooled into a lake of calm but inside her emotions rushed like waves. How did he know? When did he find out? After all this time she get brought down by Malfoy? Of course, that's just bloody brilliant. How much time did she have?

Before she truly set her escape in motion, she forced her thoughts to calm. She knew she tended to panic in these situations. Instead she slowly turned while shooting him a doubtful glance.

"Oh? Who am I Mr. Malfoy?" She held herself with confidence, even under fear of the answer.

"You use tea bags." He responded flatly. Hermione paused and when he did not continue tried to suss out any meaning from the statement. What did that mean? Did he know or didn't he? She was growing tired of the games and may have snapped a bit more than she intended.

"What on earth does that mean?"

"The locals here drink loose leaf and strain it." He responded sitting back in his chair. "You use tea bags."

"I don't like tea in my teeth." She fired back.

"You offered milk and sugar, even though you took none."

"Some people like milk and sugar."

"Not here they don't." Hermione cursed inwardly to herself. She spent so much time here and had managed to forget that little detail.

"What is your point?"

"You were raised in England. Possibly another European country but I doubt it considering your taste in quality tea and preferred style of cup."

"That one you are wrong on. These are simply cups I had picked up on sale." She responded huffily. She didn't think they were very English-looking at all.

"So then I am right about everything else?" Somewhat annoyed by his word play, somewhat entertained she decided to close the conversation anyway. Perhaps if she just gave him what he wanted he would leave her be.

"If you want the recipe that badly just take it." She waved her wand in the general direction of the door and a slip of paper came flying in, resting on the table in front of him. She was almost offended by his look of disgust.

"I hardly care for such an insignificant recipe. No, I need more than that. I want the knowledge of how you built it." Feeling the major warning bells going off in her head she twitched her wand calling for Timbala.

"Unfortunately for you, my brain in firmly planted in my head. Now please leave before I-"

"You will work for me."

"Oh? Will I?" She crossed her arms in a way that she was sure was out of character but the audacity of the statement had called for it.

"Yes. I will pay you well and arrange living quarters. You will see me on my schedule and will work on my guidance until your purpose is fulfilled, in which case you will be paid a more than generous retirement sum and can buy yourself a beach house in… I don't know… Figi." He waved his hand while pulling out a stack of coins. It was almost laughable if it weren't happening to her. Malfoy was trying to buy her!

"While that is quite a generous offer, I am not your sort of person." His eyebrow raised in question at her. "I am not a pureblood."

He scoffed, startling her. "You are who you are. I need what I need."

It irked her how such a point of torture to her for years was now hardly worth mentioning. She rubbed her right forearm absently. "I am not even half-blood."

His lip twitched and his counting stalled. "You're a mudblood."

"Muggleborn." She hissed with enough venom to make him jump. After a moment of silence, he continued to count.

"Well you are a talented mud- muggleborn and will be compensated as such. No need to haggle, more will be sent to your account to assist with relocation."

"Well," She paused in her shock looking for words. She pulled the first thought she could from her head. "I am sure your father is proud."

Again he stopped counting, clenching the gold tightly. "My father is dead."

Unfortunately, Hermione found the right words for the wrong time. "I cannot give you my condolences."

"Did you know him?" For the first time Hermione was able to relax. Safe from identification, even with her slip. It appeared he did not recognize her after all.

"Somewhat. A horrid man." Her face instinctively scrunched up as it always did when speaking of any Death Eaters. The memories may blur but she never quite found a way to make them fade.

"I am not like him." It was small and quiet. A barely there statement that left Hermione flabbergasted and vaguely pitying her old enemy.

"I am not available for any amount of money." Hermione saw more of a human soul in the Malfoy heir, or head she supposed, today than she had in the 8 years of knowing him. A small fire she had attributed to the discovery of her identity died behind his eyes. He was genuinely interested in her for some reason and as much as she hated to recall it, he was quite good on a broom. Nearly as good as Harry. Was she really that desperate though?

"Oh, I see." He stood up abruptly and somewhat shocked. He made quick work of the coins, sliding them back into his bag. "I am sorry for wasting your time today."

"However, I am looking for an apprentice." She had thought it but didn't expect her mouth to actually be able to deliver the words to a sworn enemy. The Ravenclaw part of her screamed that everyone who yearned for knowledge deserved it. While the rest of her logical side was stunned into silence before scoffing that he would never accept it anyway.

"I would hardly call my skill level apprentice." He responded back after what felt like an eternity. "I have a Mastery title."

"That is the only position open." Much to her chagrin he seemed to consider it. She was mentally screaming at herself as she weighed trying to backpedal against the offer versus wondering how much fun it would be to have Malfoy under her thumb.

"What are the requirements?" She had never expected that he would even consider this. She had to think of something still that would keep him around just long enough that she could get everything she needed done but not so long he wouldn't outright reject it.

"I will teach you whatever you need to know and guide you through it. In exchange, you will come to my workshop to assist in however I see fit until complete or for a maximum of one year. You may not share any information about me, my shops, or my life; however, your education is yours to do with what you please."

"I run a large company you know." He responded bitterly as Timbala finally appeared in the doorway. She let herself relax, knowing she had caught the wizard in front of her.

"You have minions to run a large company. You make custom potions for rich men with infidelity problems."

"I think you underestimate me."

"I think you overestimate yourself." She responded as he stood. She assumed he was planning to shake her hand to seal the deal, as if she would trust his word. "If you find this agreement reasonable you will make an unbreakable vow."

She smiled as he practically fell back his chair a vaguely haunted look on his face. He paused for a moment, staring at the table. "That's very dark magic."

"Not here." She responded, looking longingly at her empty tea cup. She was still not sure that this was the right move, but she didn't have the time she needed for any other option. "Here we don't make promises we don't intend to keep. Now, if you agree Timbala will act as our bonder. Otherwise please leave my shop."

"Why do you need an unbreakable vow then?"

"I hardly expect you to hold the same, or any, morals as the wondrous people of this country. My life is private and I would like to keep it that way. If you don't agree, that's perfectly-"

"Agreed." His whisper was hesitant and barely audible.

"What?"

"Agreed. So you will have your man cast it?" He eyed the large Indian man with a look of distaste, trying to regain his composure. Timbala remained passive as he eyed Hermione with a look of pity." Does he know how to do it without leaving a scar or losing a finger?"

"I didn't think you'd take it." She uttered mostly to herself. She did her best to suppress the disgust at the whole situation in exchange for the small spark of hope.

"Are you backing out?" He questioned with that god-damned typical smirk of his. Like he had played the game the whole time and left her at the start. Her temper flared but she couldn't scare him off.

"Hardly. Timbala, I need a Vow." Timbala moved into the room with surprising grace for a man his size, coming to a stop just close enough to Malfoy to seem uncomfortable. It seems she wasn't the only one enjoying watching the Slytherin squirm.

"Are you sure, Miss?" She simply nodded. Knowing better than to question her twice he raised his own wand between the two of them. "Hold out your wands."

Hermione did just that. She lifted her beautiful thin vinewood wand, pulsing with life. The cold skeletal black of his hawthorn seemed sickly, like the very core had been tainted. Harry should have never given it back. Nonetheless, they crossed wands with Timbala's steadfast Oak at the intersection acting as a guide. He nodded to her to start.

"For a maximum of one year, I will teach you willingly. I will give you skills you seek and will guide you in bettering yourself." A gold light snaked its way from Timbala's wand to her wrist winding around and back down it.

"For one year." He paused looking her directly in the eye. "or until I have learned what I need, I will be your apprentice working as you require. I will learn from your teachings and keep the secrets you hold safe."

A second golden strand mirrored her own, snaking around Malfoy's wrist before connecting again at the center, glowing brightly before fading away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Slow-Mo Skelegro  
> If you are unaware bones need calcium to grow and heal. Without Calcium the body can go into hypocalcemia which is a terribly painful disease where in the body begins to pull calcium from the bones to survive. You muscles need calcium to survive. And so I contest that if Skelegro is making bones from nowhere calcium is likely being pulled from other parts of the skeleton and cells. With their calcium gone the muscles would begin contracting similar to a seizure resulting the a muscle cramp from hell. Whatever healing base it has probably would prevent them from dying but yea, it would hurt. A lot.
> 
> Potion of Many Tounges  
> A Potion that allows translation of any language to the native language of the drinker. It is considered essential to all internationally travelling wizards and last for five years.


	2. A Grand Reveal

He was sure he would find a way out of this. Once he had learned what he needed he was free. It was the flaw of the vow; one needed to be very specific about what they promised or it was as good as useless.

He did have to admit he was surprised at her efficacy in secrecy. A quick statement of starting tomorrow morning and the elder woman had apparated away. The large shopkeep had given him a wooden portkey. A simple wooden plank he quickly slipped into his pocket before he found himself on an unknown street. It seemed the shopkeep was not happy with the arrangement either. Draco practically skipped to an alley where he apparated to the hotel. He appeared outside the door to his room before waltzing in with a smug grin. He had always and will always get what he wants.

As soon as he entered he was slammed from his right into a nearby wall. The flash of dark brown calmed the immediate fear of ghosts from the past.

"Theo. Let go of me you absolute arse." He pushed off his friend, only to be met with a vibrant grin. Theo had grown into his gangling body but kept the boyish looks. After his father had died he had grown his hair out long enough it curled and fell past his ears. He was able to smile again and his eyes seemed lighter than ever. He was still growing into what it was like to not be hated but Draco found himself enjoying the young man's company ever since Blaise dragged him in.

"Aw, he was just worried. Don't be so hard on the poor man." Blaise Zabini was draped lazily across the couch of the hotel room's sitting area, lazily flicking through a magazine that Draco was sure he couldn't read.

" You act as if I was out brawling in the streets." He shook off Theo and hooked Blaise behind the collar before pulling him up. "Besides that, he should be worrying about you. You haven't taken your medicine."

Zabini stumbled along behind him before regaining his footing. "Watch it! This is Cheutru."

"Yes, let's worry about a shirt instead of your arm." Malfoy replied, releasing the man. He pulled out his luggage before shifting through it to find his potions bag.

"I already took it you prick." Blaise was adjusting his collar as Draco pulled out the small vial of light blue liquid. He raised an eye brow at his indignant friend.

"Oh?" With one swift movement Draco flicked Blaise's right wrist and watched as his friend crumbled to the ground in pain. "Looks like I will have to up your dose then because it seems rather ineffective."

Blaise growled at him and he couldn't help but smirk. "Arse."

"And you are a liar but here we are. Drink." He held out the potion and man on the ground took it with a grimace. With a swift sigh he tossed his head back to drink before sputtering and coughing. "See was that so hard?"

"It taste terrible." Blaise commented dejectedly from the floor.

"I know. But, it helps." He met Blaise's eyes before the dark skinned man nodded.

"Well, are you gonna tell us where you have been?" Theo inquired from where he entered the room. He had been leaning against the doorway, seemingly without a care in the world.

"Yes, mum." Draco teased as he threw himself back on his bed. "I think I have found a lead on fixing Blaise."

"I am damn perfect and don't need fixed." He shot back from the floor, waiting for the potion to take effect.

"You say as you lay on the floor like the ingrate you are." Theo chuckled and Blaise narrowed his eyes but couldn't help letting a small smile escape.

"You really don't need to keep doing this Draco. I am fine."

"No you aren't." Draco stared at the ceiling, wondering if this time would be the last time. "In any event, let's celebrate. I am sick of this country."

"Ah, but the women!" Blaise exclaimed as he pulled himself from the floor.

"And the food!" Theo added.

"And the drinks. Let's go." Draco jumped from the bed and grabbed his friends, carefully avoiding Blaise's right arm. It may be unconventional but Draco was grasping at straws at this point. Besides, he would be able to wiggle his way out of this vow after he got what he needed.

He didn't bother to even glance at the forgotten portkey tucked into his jacket, the three eyed cat smiling slyly.

0000000000000000

Draco woke with a hard thunk. His eyes cracked open to reveal a hardwood floor and a vaguely amber lit room. He groaned as a weight pressed lightly on his head. Perhaps the bartender, encouraging him to leave, he really hadn't meant to get so drunk, but a new lead always inspired hope in his friends. And hope inspired celebrations and celebration inspired drinking.

A flash of orange- red flitted across his vision and for a moment, his greatest fear he had slept with a Wesley had come true. That was until the face of a rather old and rather ugly cat appeared, glancing at Draco from his place on his head.

"Hello, you mangy mongrel. What are you doing here?" The animal let out an ugly yowl before using Draco as a springboard and jumping away.

With a groan he rose to a kneeling position, a small wooden slat falling out of his breast pocket. He picked it up wondering exactly where he was and why that cat looked so familiar.

The sound of a floo off to his right pulled him back into the moment. An old Indian woman stepped out covered in flower petals, muttering about something. Her eyes met his and narrowed as she threw her hands up in the air.

"Of course. Of _bloody_ course. You better not still be drunk you cretin." She stomped away and Draco couldn't help but snicker to himself. He supposed he was starting his 'apprenticeship' today. Maybe if he was lucky he would get his fix by the end of lunch and be done witht he whole matter by 5:00.

"Good morning Crookshanks. I hope you peed on him." The name sounded familiar as well. Why would a cat be familiar? He hadn't even seen a cat since school. One of his dorm mate's perhaps?

"Well? Get up. We don't have all day." Ahmi yanked the shawl from her chest and Draco scrambled to a sitting position as her age melted away and the charm was removed. Her back was to him as she hung the shawl but his 'teacher' was clearly young. Maybe the same age he was. Her wild brown curls were like a shock of brush one would fall into in the forest.

She turned to him with and absolutely evil smirk, one that could rival his own. He started blankly at her face, trying desperately to figure out the very loud warning from his memories. Something that was screaming for a quick hex and escape.

The old cat jumped into her arms and she pet it fondly before speaking. "Well, Malfoy. You sure have found yourself in quite the strange situation."

Cat. Hair. Know-it-all attitude. It suddenly clicked.

"GRANGER!"

She flinched as the cat jumped away hissing. It was clearly startled by his outburst but Draco couldn't bring himself to care.

"Do you MIND?" She hissed back. Resting her hand on her temple. "I have a rather stubborn headache and your shouting is not helping."

Draco paused for a moment taking in the situation.

"No." He looked from the cat to Hermione Bloody Granger. "Nope. No. No. Nope."

Quickly he strolled to the floo looking for powder.

"Pardon?"

His eyes scanned the mantle, clearly finding a box stacked with a light gray powder. "Nope."

"You can't just 'nope'. You made a vow, Malfoy."

"Not with you I didn't." He grabbed a handful before stepping into the fire place.

"You'll regret this Malfoy. You can't break a vow."

"Have a nice life Granger." He muttered the name of his home under his breath so she couldn't hear and disappeared in a burst of flame.

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Hermione sighed as she picked another stray tulip petal from her hair. She had been chasing the damn flower pixies across the Netherlands all night. With great effort she pulled the pixie powder she had gathered from her robes and drifted it towards the catalog on the wall with her wand. Placing the pouch softly in the drawer, she snapped it shut. She wasn't worried. He would be back shortly and in the meantime, perhaps she could get some sleep. They still had a few hours after all.

Her alarm woke her at exactly one hour later 7:58. She had just put the kettle on before hearing a resounding thunk behind her. She stretched before bothering to turn around.

"Bloody Christ." Glancing back a somewhat messy looking Draco Malfoy had landed on her rug with her portkey next to him. He glanced up and met her eyes as she took a sip of tea.

"Still no!" He proceeded to the floo with the same intent as last time, but now with a considerably visible limp. A flash of light and he was gone. She snickered to herself as the portkey that had brought him to her snapped back into his pocket right before his exit. She just busied herself preparing for the day ahead.

Approximately one hour later, one pale and writhing Slytherin had landed on her area rug in a heap. Oh, how she wish she had a camera.

"Welcome back my little apprentice."

"Noooo." He groaned from his spot on the floor. The kettle screeched behind her signaling her second pot. She turned to the it and began pouring herself a cup.

"Yes." She stated, turning back to the boy, a rare spot of white in her otherwise dark workshop. He was again crawling towards the floo. "Don't be stupid. If you leave, the next portkey will bring back a dead body."

She sipped her tea as Malfoy yanked the wooden trinket from his pocket and ripped it away. Sadly, it only made it about a foot away. She relished this. Did it make her a bad person? Maybe. Did she care? Most certainly not.

"Now, now. Don't be like that. I need you for at least one thing before you start to rot." She shook her wand in his general direction. He floated to his feet and on to a nearby couch.

"Fuck Granger. Torture doesn't seem like your MO." He growled from his slumped position. Oh this was soooo much fun for her. She couldn't believe she had regretted this decision for even a second. She grabbed a potion from a nearby table.

"I haven't done a thing. You are the dense idiot who tried to break an unbreakable vow. You are lucky I saw this coming and added a secondary transfer or you would be dying alone in your apartment. Drink." She tossed it onto the couch where it bounced harmlessly on to his lap.

"Everything burns."

"You aren't in hell yet. Though you certainly deserve to be. Drink. I don't have all day." Malfoy regarded the potion suspiciously before uncorking and smelling it. "Oh relax, if I wanted to kill you I wouldn't have called you back. It's just a healing potion."

"You're a right idiot you know that Granger?" He swallowed the potion with a scowl. She was mildly disappointed it was one of hers that didn't have the traditional sour flavor.

"Says the man who arrived on my floor in a heap." She sipped her tea and watched him rise. She was fully prepared for anything but hoped he wasn't dumb enough to try.

"I could kill you." He offered as he stumbled unsteadily to his feet in what she supposed was a threatening manner. She couldn't help but chuckle.

"You were always a mediocre with a wand. Besides the vow would strike you down first."

"I didn't promise no harm."

"It's implied. How unbreakable would it be if you just got to kill me once you got what you wanted?" She delighted in his scorn. This was the most fun she had had in years.

"Why would you do this? I didn't know who you were but you certainly know who I am." He righted himself as the potion fixed the torn muscles and aching joints. She was almost sad to see it work so quickly.

"I need a broom."

"I will buy you a broom factory if you release me." He shook his shoulders loosely as he regained a hold on his body.

"I need the rider, Tosser."

"I don't remember you swearing this much."

"And I don't remember being in a room with you without hexing you into next week and yet here we are. I still want to of course, but I won't."

"Get bloody Potter to do it. I'm leaving. Release me."

"Hmmmm." She sipped her tea thoughtfully. "No."

"Why?" He demanded as he advanced towards her.

"This is more fun." In spite of, herself she was having a great time. It had been so long since she got to have witty banter.

"So you are keeping me chained here for a year. Just so you have someone to taxi you about?" He had come to a stop about two feet from her with his arms crossed. He probably thought he looked intimidating but she thought he looked petulant.

"Yes. Now lets go." She set down her tea and checked her watch. She had allowed 15 minutes for his recovery and time was almost up.

"Go where?" Draco asked, clearly not intending to cooperate. She smirked as she grabbed the dusty old broom she used more frequently to clean than to fly.

She snatched his arm before he could react just as the her portkey triggered. Leaving her workshop echoing with laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Travel Miles-  
> Traveling in my universe works similarly to how it does in the series.  
> Apparition: Short distances to known locations. Can be cancelled by wards.  
> Portkey: For long distances to a programmable destination. Best for one time travel, do not have to have previously visited. Regulated by the Ministry and subject to customs. Due to this, there is a thriving black market for unregistered portkeys.
> 
> Flower Pixies-
> 
> The flower Pixie are a sort of fairy that is attracted to large blooms of flowers. Hermione had been chasing them around the Dutch magical tulip festival that occurs each fall (instead of in the spring like the muggle one).


	3. A Treasured Ingredient

She landed gracefully on the payment only to be treated to the sight of a collapsed Slytherin yet again. Yes, this was a fantastic choice for her. She glanced around the empty town square. The shop fronts identified it as muggle, signs shouting loudly about electronics, ice cream, and beach wear.

"Are you mad, woman? You can't portkey into a muggle town. Well be seen!" He scrambled up with his wand ready (she assumed he was making to obliviate witnesses). She simply smirked and skipped off without a worry.

"Relax this town has been evacuated. No one is left." His steps followed behind her as they traveled down the road.

"Evacuated? Then what are we doing here." A panicked animal sprinted out of the brush and rocketed past them. "Was that a… kangaroo? Are we in bloody Australia?"

"No just the regular Australia. All the people are gone as it's monsoon season, the same reason we are here." She handed him the broom with a smile. "Are you ready?"

She watched him sigh and eventually hop on the broom in defeat. "Eh hm. I need to get on too."

"I don't fly with others." He scoffed from the front.

"You also don't associate with muggleborns but now you are being commanded by one. Move." She briefly wondered if she was being too harsh, blaming the lack of sleep.

"Fine." He scooted up just enough to leave her an uncomfortably small amount of room. "Where exactly are we going?"

She pointed West towards a collection of large, black thunderhead clouds. "That way."

"Towards that massive storm?" He questioned, as they drifted off the ground. Hermione resisted the urge to flinch or look at the ground.

"Into the massive storm." She was forced to grip Malfoy's waist as the broom lurched to a stop.

"You're a nutter." The broom swiftly turned around and they started speeding away from the storm.

Hermione vaguely remembered a saying about honey and vinegar. Knowing full well he could hear her she leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Well, if you don't want to find the secret to the world's best Cure-All potion…"

She smiled as the broom slowed to stop. She may not know exactly what he was after but it seemed like some sort of health problem. If all went well her cure-all could fix it and they could both part ways swiftly. "Is that opinion? Or fact?"

He turned towards her, revealing a hidden weakness. His eyes were alight with curiosity, the kind that she would see in her own from time to time, along with a thinly veiled desperation. She couldn't help what she was sure appeared to be an absolutely manic grin. "It. Cures. Everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything that's damaged. Even things you have never seen or heard of before." There wasn't even a moment of conflict as he rounded the broom so quickly Hermione found herself wrapped around the blonde boy, holding on for dear life, much to her dislike.

"You better deliver Granger." He shouted over the roar of the wind.

"You better not kill us!" She cackled as they dove into the first of the gray clouds effectively coating them in the pouring rain, thunder rumbling just a short distance away.

00000000000000000000

Draco knew better. He once set off a small electrical fire at a muggle café in France and that was enough to make sure he never messed around with the power source of the world. And yet, a potion that could cure everything. Could it fix Blaise's arm? Could it help his mom? Could it save the world? The possibilities were endless! More importantly, HOW DID HERMIONE BLOODY GRANGER FIGURE IT OUT BEFORE HIM?! He had to know!

He was thinking of all the ways one could elevate the tradition Cure-All (which was much more of a cure-some) and pushing the broom through the rain when he felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. He had a split second to roll out of the way as lightning struck where they had previously just been.

"Fucking HELL!" He screamed into the storm. He heard the echoing cry from Granger. Instantly chastising himself for getting carried away he tried to turn the broom against the wind. "This is mad. Where are we going?"

"Why did you move? We had it!" he voice was barely audible through the storm. He was sure she had misspoken. The wind was fighting him and he had only managed to drift them into a loop, still high in the black clouds.

"I moved so we didn't fry!" Another bolt of fear, another roll, another lightning strike. This one with much more clearance than the last.

"Hold still!" She screamed. He felt her let go with one arm and felt her shuffle behind him but didn't dare glance back. Before he could call the crazed witch a name his instinct kicked in again. He dodged another, much to her annoyed screams.

"Stop dodging!"

"I am not dying for you Granger." A gust of wind ripped at the broom swinging it mildly out of his grip before he recovered. At this point he wasn't sure he even had control of where the broom was going anymore. "We're getting out of-"

He felt the strangest sensation as his soaking wet blond hair lifted from his neck and face. The very air crackled with energy and his breath hitched; he knew he couldn't dodge it. There was a flash of white and he braced for the searing red pain... But it didn't come.

His blinked, forcing his eyes to recover from the blinding bolt. Thunder boomed all around him, shaking him to the bone. Small shocks registered from the tips of his toes. Everything was full of energy and fire but no heart stopping pain. It was only then he realized he was missing a weight behind him.

Pausing for only a moment, a crack of thunder spurred him on. There was only one place she would have gone and that was down. He whipped the broom down through the pounding rain, unable to see more than a few feet in front of him. He almost drew his wand but there wasn't time.

As he broke through the cloud line, the ground began rushing towards him. A small, brilliant light was fluttering below. He pushed the broom forward at a dangerous speed and gravity tore at him, his stomach lost far behind. Ever-nearing, the ground and the flickering light came closer, whipping in what was very obviously wind torn robes.

He closed in quickly but the dirt of the outback was approaching faster. He reached as far as he could, grasping for a hold on her arm, her leg, her rat's nest of hair- anything. But, they had reached the moment every seeker knows, when it's time to turn back or crash. They were too close and he had run out of time to stop. With one last swipe he grabbed hold of a fistful of fabric, praying it wouldn't rip.

He pulled the broom up and back, knowing his best bet was redirection. Draco angled down and along the speeding ground. When her legs made hit the mud he was pulled from the broom as well, sending them both tumbling along the earth. His body cried out in pain as her robe tore away and his bones echoed with the impact.

He wasn't sure how far they had slid by the time they came to a stop. With great regret, Draco lifted his head in search of his attempted murderess. She was slumped a few feet away, covered in more mud than cloth and partially obscured by the rain and dark. As he stood he wondered mildly if she, and by proxy, his best hope was dead. His body screamed over the storm as his stood, rain plastering his robes to his body. His very skin still sparked with electricity as the thunder roared overhead.

He stumbled towards the body of his old school mate mentally preparing for the next-of-kin report. After all, it was only right, even if she was an idiot mudblood.

He extended his hand to roll her on her back when she sprung up laughing like a mad woman. He was taken aback by her recovery and somewhat relieved to not have to explain a dead witch. However, he very quickly to remember the risk she had put him up to for Merlin-knows-why. Draco viciously cuffed her by the shoulder spinning her toward him.

"Are you daft?! What on earth was that?!" He hollered over the wind. The storm still wreaking a mighty vengeance at their escape.

She stopped laughing and glanced down to the folds of her soaked robes with a quite smile, like a child who had successfully stolen from the cookie jar. Inside of a medium sized bottle was a flickering light. He looked closer and saw the light spark from one end to the other, a mighty force of nature trapped in a common glass container; lightning in a bottle.

00000000000000000000000000

Hermione was thrilled. This was the best possible thing she could hope for. Not only did she capture it, she got what may have been the largest strike of the storm, fresh from the source. While Malfoy examined their prize, she withdrew her wand and summoned her international portkey from her pocket. Just as she felt the familiar pull at her navel she remembered to grab Malfoy's arm.

They reappeared in her warm workshop staring at the bottle, it seemed so small for how much power it contained. The sound of heavy breathing and water dripping on the floor were the only thing to interrupt the silence.

Pulling herself away she untangled herself from his arm that was still resting on his shoulder and left the awe-shocked man behind her. She heard a mummered drying spell and she limped towards the covered cauldron beside her work table.

The fall had hurt, almost as much as the strike. Her muscles cried in agony, but it was nothing she wasn't used to. Gingerly she set down the bottle containing her prized ingredient as she levitated the heavy cauldron lid off the top of the cast iron pot. The tell-tale blue bubbling liquid of unfinished Cure-All called to her, just waiting for her final addition. She drifted towards it, setting down her wand to open the bottle. She almost shouted when she was abruptly pulled back by her robes. Whipping around she found a very haggard looking Slytherin breathing heavily with his robes between his fist.

"Let go." She huffed out, noting her own labored breathing. He held up his wand and she cradled the bottle, protecting it. She flinched and shut her eyes as he muttered a spell, unsure of what to expect.

She felt a wave of warmth pass over her as her robes became damp instead of dripping, her hair dried to a crisp and crunchy state, and her skin was wicked of liquid. She glanced at the caster of the drying spell only to be met with eyes filled with a manic passion that challenged the storm that brought them here.

"Don't drip into it. You'll ruin it." Hermione nodded, knowing her slip up could have resulted in this all being for nothing. She shucked off her outer robes down to her jumper and jeans, before approaching the cauldron. She glanced behind her to check that Malfoy was at a safe distance only to find him towering over her, staring at the bottle in her hand like it was the Nile and he was a dying man.

Breathing in deeply, she turned to the potion. She flipped the bottle upside down, exciting the energy inside it. Her hand grasped the wood cork, holding the lightening in, and yanked. There was a violent crack and Hermione was blown back, slamming into the soaked man behind her.

They hit the floor and Hermione bounced off his chest. They only took a moment for recovery before both scrambling back up to the pot.

Both gazed into the deep purple of a successfully completed potion. Hermione was overjoyed but too tired to display it. She felt a rush of relief and sank to the hard wooden floorboards. She had actually finished it. She was actually done. She barely noticed the boy who had joined her as they stared up at the ceiling in a mix of awe, confusion and exhaustion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last short chapter. The story had a different structure when I started writing it as opposed to now. Obviously we will be exploring the world of potions and to me it is impossible to have a whole class dedicated to the art of potion making and not have it be filled with a variety of ways to do things. I will be expanding heavily on ingredients, methods, and types of potions as well as building up the world around them.
> 
> World Building with Om
> 
> Lightening in a bottle  
> A phrase usually meaning that someone had garnered success through great difficulty in a unlikely situation. In this world it is also literal. The closer to the source the strike is caught more pure and powerful the catalyst.


	4. A Wild Risk

"That is why you needed me. Lightning in a bottle." Draco was staring up at the ceiling of her workshop. The rafters were reflecting the flicker of flames from the cauldron fire and were otherwise barely illuminated from the gray light of the window.

"I was always hopeless with a broom." Granger was breathing harder than he was. Deep shuttering breaths that, in the case of a more amenable witch, may have concerned him. She took the direct hit, both of the fall and the bolt. She would be hurting far more than him and she deserved it.

"Do you have a death wish Granger?" He injected as much venom into the words as possible but given his exhausted state it came out more as a trite barb.

"I needed it for the Cure-All. It's the secret you know." Draco rolled his eyes. Of course he knew. But the mass market Cure-Alls just put up a lightning rod and called it a day.

"I could have just bought it you know. Just because you are dreadfully poor doesn't mean that the rest of us have to go to such drastic measures for a bit of a spark."

"You _are_ in need of teaching aren't you?" She quipped as he felt the rustle and crunch of her hair near his left ear. "The best potions come from the finest ingredients. Fresh from the source and untouched by anything else. The catalyst was the hardest to find. But now it's done and we just need to wait."

Draco pulled himself up, his biceps screaming. The fall wasn't kind to him, but he was sure clutching the broom in a death grip during an electrical shock didn't help.

"Great. Then we're done here?" He turned to see Hermione laying flat on her back staring up at the ceiling similar to his earlier position. She looked different from their school days but also no different at all. She had the same messy and uncontrolled hair. The same wickedly intelligent and calculating look in her eyes, even while staring at an expanse of wood. However, her face had lost the baby fat of the earlier years and regained the shape that she should have had during the war. It occurred to him that he never considered why she looked so thin during the battle of Hogwarts. Only that she looked weak. A mistake that he was sure countless Death Eaters tried to take advantage of.

"For now. It will finish brewing in roughly 3 days. I shouldn't need you until then." Her eyes seemed to dim as he shifted himself into what could be considered a standing position.

"Right well, best of luck with that Granger. Send me my bottle in the post and have a lovely life. No need to thank me. You pretending I don't exist is thanks enough." She chuckled to herself and slowly shook her head. He had to restrain his scoff.

"See you later Malfoy." Her eyelids fluttered lower and he had the minor concern she shouldn't be sleeping on the floor before pushing it swiftly out of his mind. Maybe waking up with a back screaming in pain would teach her not to rope people into flying into a fucking thunderstorm.

"Next time you need a broom, call a taxi service." Without another thought he turned heel and stalked to the fireplace. He was so distracted by the thought of his large and comfortable bed that he didn't notice Hermione's smile or the weight of a small wooden plaque drop gently into his pocket.

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He stalked into his office with a dramatic flourish. The office assistants made a point to be elsewhere when they knew he was on a tear and this was no exception. In spite of his plans for a quick nap before heading back to work he had managed to sleep the whole day yesterday. He would have slept longer if Pinky hadn't woken him when Blaise and Theo were practically wedging open the door.

After some halfhearted assurances that he was indeed alive they left with a promise of details at a later date. Clearly he would have to come up with something. Maybe a nice tale about a Bali princess on vacation… Did they even have princesses?

With his mind slowly returning to his body he couldn't help but groan. He hurt all over. The crash mangled his muscles and the strike managed to turn his nerves into twitching, burning pathways. Thankfully Pinky left a healing potion by his bed that was working far better than usual. He was able to haul himself to the office this morning with only the vague hint of dizziness and a slightly sour taste. He would have to figure out where she bought it.

"Drizzella" He called as he sank into the well worn leather wing-back chair behind his onyx desk. Both pieces were worth their weight in gold, and they weighed a lot.

"Yes Sir." A waif of a blonde woman poked her head out from the open door. She was pretty in the standard way all delicate kept women are, all grace and no edge. The exact opposite of the mess he had just worked with.

"Coffee. A lot. Food. Something filling I can eat while working. Appointments, what did I miss?"

The girl was scratching a quill onto a pad she had produced and ripped the sheet of paper before handing it off to the other assistant, Marie. Not only was Drizzella pretty but she was damn good at her job.

"A meeting with the London Home for Magical Children. We made an appropriate donation in your name which seemed to placate them. A meeting with the board which after a lot of grandstanding was moved to Thursday. And a meeting with Mister Macy of Grayskies Industries. In regards to his… marital problems." She hesitated in a way that let him know that the last point was still outstanding.

"I take it he was insulted." Draco sighed as he stared out the window into the London gray. His office was on the 56th floor, giving him a great view of the dreary weather that the city was known for. He paid far too much for what most often looked like a dirty dishrag.

"He was not pleased. We managed to convince him to come back this morning. If I could be so bold to advise-"

"Yes yes. Send him in when he arrives. Try to make sure my coffee gets here first." He had a long day ahead of him.

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Hermione finally had caught up on sleep by the second day and had busied herself with random house keeping things the morning of the third. Her contacts had all been notified she would be out for the day and any issues must be addressed before then or wait until after. Crookshanks was brushed, fed, and slept by the cauldron. She had even managed a bath to get the last of the caked mud and rock off. She was still sore and deeply regretted slipping the last of her quick-recovery potion into the floo with Malfoy. Hopefully one of his multitude of servants found it in the ashes and got it to him.

With a sigh she glanced around her workshop and wished she could afford servants. Never a house elf slave but perhaps a house elf housekeeper. Compensated and cared for of course. However, as she always did, she decided it was too much trouble and risk. Instead she grabbed the broom herself and began sweeping.

It was roughly nine when another thunk notified her of Malfoy's arrival. Or delivery she supposed. The little wooden plank charmed itself back into her pocket for the next time she needed it and a groan indicated that her apprentice was unaware of his transport prior to arrival.

"Welcome back Malfoy. I am so glad you are a punctual student." She placed the mop back in the corner and spelled the dirty water to water her herb garden, although looking at the sky they were probably going to get a drink anyway.

"Why am I here?" He had landed on the couch this time and while looking much more sober, seemed as equally underwhelmed with the situation.

"We made a deal, remember." She drifted over to the cauldron and stirred the perfectly brewed Cure-All. A scent of honey and cayenne tickled at the back of her nose indicating it's readiness. Slowly she began to portion out the mixture to the waiting vials next to her. Careful not to spill a drop.

"You couldn't have shipped it?" With a heft he pulled himself up running his hand through his disheveled sickly blond hair. Apparently he had grown it out longer as little curls flipped upwards at his ears like a petulant child. It looked horrible and that made her smile.

"To my _greatest disappointment_ , we aren't done yet." She responded tersely, not too happy with the situation either.

"Oh so you want me to stick around. Well Granger, didn't those idiot boys tell you kidnapping is not the way to get a man?" He shook out his shoulders and began to wander around the room setting off alarm bells in her head. She hated having him here, in her private space.

"Please, I just had breakfast. I would like to keep it in my stomach." She stoppered the final vial and began gently laying them in a basket cushioned with velvet lining. "Unfortunately we made a deal and thus the need to keep your sorry self around."

"Well I release you. As wonderful as it's been, I would rather return to my life. Whatever your secret is, it's not worth dealing with you." She tried not to bristle as he picked up a perfectly round stone on her bookshelf. It was a gift from the Grand Mahinki and was supposed to soothe any animal you threw it to. Apparently Malfoy didn't count.

"Oh, how generous." She tucked the last portion in and folded the velvet over her precious cargo in relief. It had to work this time. There was nothing else. "Unfortunately that's not how it works."

"Admitting weakness Granger? How trite." She rolled her eyes and stalked toward him. She snatched the ball and set it gently back on the shelf. God, he was such a prick.

"Make no mistake. I would love for you to be gone this instant. I have every intention of releasing you today with the lesson of not recklessly making unbreakable vows. Once we finish up that is." She grabbed his wrist and stalked toward the fireplace. His indignant snort was certainly satisfying.

"I thought you were against slavery." He muttered as he eyed the basket. "Where are we going anyway?"

With a flourish she grabbed a handful of floo powder before whispering their destination. If she was going to have to drag him around she may at least grant herself the joy of confusing him.

A flash of green and the smell of smoke greeted her before stepping out into a bright, golden room. She didn't wait long before pulling the man behind her out of the way as another wizard appeared where they stood a second earlier. While it would have been funny to seem him landed on, the other traveler certainly did not deserve it.

"Where in the hell are we?" She released his wrist and turned to find him gawking at the large room. While she wanted to make fun of him, she really couldn't blame his reaction. The first time she saw the place she had to be pulled out of the way of a memo swarm. The floos exited into a huge domed space reminiscent of a train station. Thick pillars of marble climbed toward the ceiling with golden vines creeping towards the top. The ceiling itself was finely painted with images of the various native magical creatures. Set inside the paintings, finely polished gemstones threw light from the windows down to the floor in rich reflective confetti. She stared at the opal clouds curling around the Impundulu, it'll brilliant yellow feathers flaked with gold and its dark beak shaped from jet. It was beautiful, it was welcoming, it was everything the Ministry of Magic in London was not.

"The Ministry, of course." She replied tersely wondering how patient she should be. This is an amazing place, worthy of wonder and respect but they also didn't have a lot of time.

"Very funny." She followed his gaze to the entrance gates and decided it was a perfect excuse to head forward. Holding her basket close to her chest, she set out at a brisk pace, avoiding any bumps and shoves from the self-important officials. At least that's the same everywhere.

"Not all ministries need to be ebony black and dark as midnight." She called back. She heard a grunt of disgust and could only assume he was following. A thick heat was drifting through the various ports of entry, their shimmering golden gates swing open and shut as witches and wizards passed. Little enchanted golden creatures twisting between the grates giving the illusion of walking into a magical garden. She wondered briefly if a muggle had seen it and decided it must be what the gates of heaven looked like.

She spotted Anike at the far left. Her wrap was the deep purple of the high agents and her braids were piled high on her head similar to a beehive, popular in the young witches here. The ensemble gave off a strict and intimidating air but it was all erased by her huge almond brown eyes and gentle smile.

Both of which were turned on Hermione as she stepped up to the gate. The excitement that glittered in them was near heart breaking. She could live with hope, hope acknowledges failure. But excitement just existed to be crushed if this didn't work.

"Sister Hermi! It is so good to see you. Arike sent word. I have been praying to the spirits for your success and now here you are!" Anike was near explosive with her optimism which in any other circumstance, Hermione loved that about her.

"It has been too long Sister. Unfortunately I don't have time to catch up." She smiled weakly at the girl. "Perhaps on the return trip?"

"Of course, of cour-" Hermione felt Malfoy step up behind her to loom behind her just as Anike cut herself off. The warm almond eyes froze over, turning hard and calculating. "Sir. Wait your turn."

"Unfortunately," Hermione sighed. "He is travelling with me."

Anike gave her a wistful glance before her eyes bore into Malfoys left arm. "I see no curse on you. But Hermione. He is… I cannot."

"Just this once Anike. I am so sorry to put you in this situation but I do need him. I will be keeping a very close eye on him. I promise."

"Promises are not enough. Even yours." With a sigh Hermione rolled up the left sleeve of her robe and thought of the oath. A thin golden line snaked it way around her right wrist and drifted gently to Malfoy like a kitten pawing a toy. A swift yank dropped her sleeve and cut off the visual. She felt like she was hiding an embarrassing secret.

"Hermione... It is a great risk you take. He is... dark. Very dark." Anike's eyes were doubtful and mistrusting as they drilled into her old school mate. His demeanor was a placid and regally calm but the flashes behind his eyes revealed his anger. Hopefully, he could keep his cool until they had managed to enter the country.

"Even the night has a moon. For every evil there is good. And when there is not," she held up her arm with a relaxed smile she did not feel. "I have a leash."

It took only a moment more before Anike fell into open laughter. "How I would hate to be stuck as your dog. Well Sister you know the risk, now pass on, before someone sees. We will have to chat another time"

Hermione bowed her head in thanks as the gates sprung open. With a quick shove she pushed the blond boy through and into the bright and busy streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Transport Laws-  
> Floo System: The floo system allows travel between long distances. Connections can either be to or from but must be at least one. The second type is an open connection at all hours, usually to a public place. This sort of floo only requires that you know the name of the destination. Most ministries allow travel between private floo's no questioned asked. However, some Ministries, in this case the central African, require all newcomers entering the country to physically pass through customs. Otherwise their magic will be recognized and they will be expelled from the country.


	5. A Shot in the Dark

"That woman. How did she know?" He gasped out as the warmth of a searing hot sun slowly beat down the cold wall surrounding his heart. He felt deeply invaded; like he had swallowed lungful's of ice water. He rubbed self consciously at the faded mark on his arm.

"She has the Sight," After a moment to adjust the sun she pulled him down the street by his sleeve.

"Wait, like that old bat in divination?" His strides were longer but she was taking such harsh and frequent turns he was having trouble keeping up.

"Not even remotely close to the same level." She scoffed, " The people here are much more in touch with the spirits. She is actually good at it."

After a few blocks the path widened and they were able to slow to a less urgent pace. He ripped his arm away from her clutching hand. "You can let go of me now. I am not a lost child."

"While you are here you are my responsibility." She stopped and turned on him with a fierceness that brought back the memory of a very sore jaw for him. "I will NOT have you running off and getting Anike in trouble do you hear me?"

"I don't plan on murdering any muggles Granger. Besides what does some lowly gate agent have to do with it?" He scrunched up his nose in indignation that he should care about paper pushing mystics.

"Are you really that daft?" She questioned with a roll of her eyes. With a firm shove he found himself in a darker side alley with brown stone walls climbing up either side of him. There was barely enough for a door to open outwards left alone for a distance between him and the mudblood that he would prefer. Made all the worse as she ripped up his left sleeve flashing his faded dark mark.

"Stop pushing me!"

"What exactly do you think this is Malfoy?" She scowled as she held up his arm. "Do you think it's some pretty little boyish tattoo with a fun story attached?"

He growled as he yanked his arm back. Barely feeling her nails scrape against his skin in his anger. "Of course not. You think I am proud of this? I know what I have done and it's over. Gone. No more. Don't touch me again."

As he tried to side step her and move back out onto the street she blocked his way again. "I could give less of a shite if you are proud of it. It is very dark magic. It taints you. Oh sure, in London everyone may look the other way. 'Oh what a child of circumstance,' or maybe 'everyone did what they had to,' but not here. Here they sniff out dark magic like the cancer it is and snuff it out before it infects everything else."

"I am not infecting anyone else." He shot back with venom. "I haven't cast any dark magic in a long time. Nor do I plan to."

"Why risk it? Anike made the exception for you because you were with me. She could lose her job, get thrown in jail and who knows what else. It doesn't matter if it was yesterday or 20 years ago. It is not allowed here and neither are you." She finished with a growl. Draco was burningly mad. How could they treat him like some outlaw because he was forced into something as a child? It wasn't his fault he got his lot thrown in with a mad man.

"Oh," He breathed condescending, "perhaps I should just go home then? Why did you even bring me here, considering? Were you hoping they would snatch me up and you would have rid the world of the evil scion of Malfoy?"

"I simply need you as a back up plan. Nothing more." A church clock struck in the distance and there was silence between the two wizards as the chimes rang out. With a huff Hermione turned heel and stepped out into the street. Seeing no other option he followed.

They fell into step together as she guided him around the city. After a few blocks the majority of his anger had dissipated. After a few more the sun had burned off most of his indignation. By the time they turned onto a street filled with a muggle market the silence was near killing him. He had expected a lot from Hermione Granger. Anger, sass, wit. Silence wasn't something he had ever seen her use. It was mildly upsetting.

Before he could ponder on it any longer they passed another muggle stall laden with wooden masks and talismans. He gave it the same cursory glance as every other stall when his eyes landed on something familiar. The creeping feeling coated him like a gel halting his movement. When his eyes rested on a carved jet necklace he sneered.

_That is magical._

The wholly muggle shopkeeper took his notice as admiration and launched into what was supposed to be a convincing speech. "You have a good eye, Great Sir. That is a magical talisman. It is made from the blood of the popbowa. It will give you great fertility and sustenance. Although I am sure with such a beautiful young wife you need it not? In that case I can give it to you for a very low price."

Hermione bristled next to him and he couldn't help but snicker. Was she more offended by him stopping or the wife jab? As if he would ever touch her.

"Malfoy. We need to go." She spat irritably.

"Oh ho. She is full of venom. Like wild cobra! Dangerous but beautiful. I envy you."

"Dear," He smiled as she scowled. His voice was full of honey, helped by the fact he noticed something she didn't. "The man said it's magical necklace. We must get it for your Aunt Marge."

"Indeed it is!" The shopkeeper supplied helpfully. "Very magical. I got it from a real wiseman in Zanzibar. Very rare to find here."

"Hear that -" He was thrown off balance when she pulled him away with a shocking amount of strength and no small amount of rudeness. By the time he registered what happened the shop was out of sight and Hermione was marching them away again. Planting his feet, he brought them to a halt.

"Granger. Are you mad? We have to go back." She spun around with a look of total exasperation.

"Why so you can pick up a Viagra necklace? The women of London and wherever the hell else can wait. We have places to be."

"I hardly need it and I am insulted you implied so. Don't get me wrong I know you are so much slower than the rest of us but do try to keep up. That thing was real magic. In muggle hands. Who knows what trouble it'll find. We have to go back."

"I didn't peg you for a secrecy upholder." She quipped casually. "But we aren't going back. There is no need."

"No need?! I have to get snuck into the country like some sort of exotic beast but when a muggle has a dangerous magical item that could blow the cover off of the existence of magic suddenly rules don't apply?" He hissed in disbelief. He wondered exactly how long it would take to get back and what he would do if the charm was gone.

"It's not against the rules, Malfoy." She drawled in disgust. "Do your research."

He must have given her a strange look as she threw up her hands before turning and stalking off. "Haven't you ever been anywhere? And I don't mean Europe or only to magic epicenters. I mean to real cities. Where muggles and magic mix? Countries that are different from Britain. That have been around longer?"

He dodged a man swiftly walking in the other direction with cages packed on his back. The traffic was getting worse and he was trying to focus on keeping the ratty mess of hair ahead of him. "Of course I have. I was just in India a week ago as you well know."

"Indeed. What did you think of the temples? The ritual? The celebrations?"

"That they had lovely chanting and flowers but not nearly enough drinks. Why?"

"God do you ever pay attention to anything." She ducked under a beam that shot in from the right before it disappeared back into the chaos. The people were pressing in closer, like a giant river of humans as he fought to remain directly behind her.

"I haven't lost you yet, have I?" He challenged as they broke through into a massive marketplace. She stopped abruptly in front of a fountain and dramatically swung out her arms.

"Look where you are, you arrogant cad. Look and think." People flowed around them like clockwork. The smell of various street foods mingled in the air. Vendors called out goods to passerbys. It took him a moment to realize they were calling to muggle and wizard alike.

"There's magic!" He stated in wonder as a muggle child played crackersnaps with some wizard children, smiling with glee when the rolled bones exploded into a harmless shower of sparks. A housewife off to the left was arguing with a merchant over a fire protection charm. A fortune teller was fanning herself in the door of her tent attempting to catch anyone's eyes.

"Of course there is." She sighs in great exasperation. "This continent is the birthplace of magic, it's been around as long as human kind. There is no Statute of Secrecy here. The muggles all _know_."

He dipped backwards to dodge a colorful flying fish that was being chased by two boys. The very idea was absurd. Muggles interweaving with Wizards. It would be a bloodbath. And yet, right in front of him healers were treating ailments, both magical and muggle. Witches were weaving enchanted clothing for protection of anyone who asked. Vendors selling meat of Merlin knows what. No one batted an eye and if there was a raised voice it was over the price of dates not blood. "I didn't know a place like this existed."

"How did you not see it in India, one of the most mystical places on the planet? Magic here is the everyday. It's normal. Have you ever actually been anywhere?" The clock sounded again, just one chime to indicate the half hour mark. Hermione scowled again. "We don't have time for this."

He caught barely a glimpse before she was back in the sea of people, just a smudge of light brown among an ocean of color. He lost sight of her a few times but managed to see her dip into a shop just as the flash of her dark robes disappears. Fighting against the current he managed to get himself spat out next to a sign labeled the Lion's Pelt. He had only a moment before she stuck her head out again.

"Well are you coming or not?" Clearly it was not a question as she slipped back inside before he could answer. He figured he was in for a knut at this point and followed her in. The shop was dark and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust.

"Sister Hermi! It is so good to see you!" The voice was lower pitched and had a warm and hearty feel to it, like a deep laugh. When his eyes adjusted he saw Granger being put down from what he assumed was a spinning huge. A middle aged man with a bare chest and a shaved head assessed her like one would his own daughter. His eyes smiling and proud. He had dark inked tribal tattoos lacing up his wrist and flowing onto his chest.

"You don't sleep enough my child. Are you still taking that devil drink?" He lectured while shaking his head.

"It's just tea, Awero." She supplied helpfully. "I would love another lecture but we're already running late."

"Pah. Dirty leaf water. Some thick zoba would do you up right." His eyes landed on Draco with a narrowed suspicion. "Who is this boy? Did you bring home a husband? He has not asked us... I do not like him."

It appeared to be the national 'let's-hate-Draco-day' wherever they were.

"Good lord, no! He is my assistant and we do really need to get to work."

"Ah yes yes. The potions. You are our savior indeed, little lion. Well hurry on, go fix them." He made a shooing motion towards her with a smile.

"I just hope it works."

"I know it will."

"Pray to the spirits." She responded and gestured for Draco to follow. Awero's eyes were fixed on him. While not as dark of a look as the girl had given him earlier he still felt like something on the bottom of a very nice shoe. When she pulled back a tapestry revealing a mountain of rugs he was proud to say it was just about what he expected.

"What now? Are we taking a magic carpet for a spin?" He kept pace as she stepped forward, clambering up the pile.

"So clever. A rug joke in a rug shop. However _do_ you think of these things?" He grimaced in distaste as his foot slipped launching a wave of dust into the air. "Just wait, it's on the other side. I have told him hundreds of times to clean out this back room. But does he listen to me? No, of course not."

She beat him to the top and crested over it, much to his annoyance. "I can't imagine why."

As he heaved himself over the peak, the carpet directly below him began to slide. Before he could regain any grip he was halfway down the tower and sliding out of control.

He drifted to a remarkably graceful stop at the base just a few feet from where the still complaining witch was dusting herself off, apparently not even phased. "I told him all this just accumulates dust. Which will just aggravate Alanie's allergies but what do I know?"

She strode off as Draco regained his footing and pulled back another tapestry on the wall. This time bright light streamed through the entrance, making her just a black outline. "I swear you think more people would listen to me by now."

She passed through the gate leaving Draco to follow, wondering just how he got into this mess.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Hermione sighed as the breeze blew across her face. It smelled absolutely wild, like heat and grass and mud. How she had missed it. Under better circumstances she would have to visit again. Life tends to get in the way and she had always been notorious for getting wrapped up in work. Maybe after this cleared up and she got rid of Draco she would make the trip. Speaking of which, the brat in question pushed through the magical doorway she turned to face him.

He looked around in great surprise before spotting a herd of zebras and sighing towards the sky.

"Africa. You brought me to bloody Africa?" She took great pleasure in dirt and dust covered robes along with his heaving chest. Apparently the kind of exercise he was used to was only found on a broom. She gave him a moment to recover his breath while she transfigured her dark London robes into a light white linen. Immediately the sun felt less oppressive and more like a warm hug than a baking oven.

"Nigeria to be specific." She turned in the direction of some blurry barely distinguishable huts. "Almost there. But I would consider changing robes if I were you. It's only a kilometer away but you are going to overheat fast in all that black.

She paused, partially out of politeness and partially out of shock when he began muttering a spell. His dark robes did indeed change to linen but still remained stubbornly black. Well you can't help a fool.

Once he had finished, she set off down the dirt path leaving the tree and the hanging tapestry drifting in the breeze. Well, it was less of a path and more of a game trail that had been tamed. By the time the children had started shouting Draco was sweating and she was smiling.

The shouts came in quick succession as children popped in huts like shy toadstools reemerging moments later with adults gripped in their small and eager hands. Hermione smiled and waved to the people welcoming her home. They were just passing the first houses when a stately figure emerged from the largest hut.

"Sister Hermi! I have missed your kind eyes!" She ran forward into his comforting arms. Ignoring the perplexed look she was sure Draco was sporting.

"Brother Arike. It has been far too long!" His smile faltered and his normally kind brown eyes told her the news before his words did.

"Father Arike now, Great Sister. Father Ajin has joined the spirits. We are not sad as he had lived a good life now has begun his second one." She forced her disappointment and tears to the back of her mind. She knew it was so much harder for Arike to lose his parent but it still stung.

"I wasn't fast enough." She managed to squeak in despair. "I wasn't clever enough."

"Nonsense little lion." He corrected her by shaking her shoulder lightly. "You are fast and clever enough to be here today. My father was old. There are others still living who need you. Come."

He guided her into the largest of the huts. From the outside it seemed fairly simple. With walls of mud-packed grass spanning a circle about 6 meters wide and a thatched roof. However, inside the secret of their village leaked out. Thick mopani wood floors had been sanded to satin and the room was easily 5 times the size it appeared from the outside. Airy reed walls accounted for airflow while keeping any wildlife out. Large paper blade fans circulated the breeze through the medical wing and out the window. The plush lightning bird stuffed beds were full, something that was far from usual, and a bubbling fountain in the corner gave the air of a meditative retreat not a hospital.

"Would someone please explain what is going on?" Hermione glanced at Draco with mild amusement. He had reacted just like Ron did when presented with an unknown concept. She wondered how upset that would make him.

"Oh yes my friend. So sorry I am-" Arike cut himself off as Draco blinked blankly at him.

"What on earth is he saying?" Draco questioned Hermione. She stared at him blankly not understanding. Suddenly it hit her and she scowled.

"How have you not had a potion of Many Tongues by now? One would figure someone of your position would have need of the knowledge." She cursed as she shuffled around her beaded bag tied to her waist, digging for her first aid kit.

"Don't be daft. I have. I just… can't understand what this man is saying." Draco defended. He gestured towards Arike who looked deeply amused by the whole situation.

"Well did you brew it yourself? Because it's clearly flawed. What is the point of a Many Tongues if it doesn't register every language?" Withdrawing the kit she opened the latch to find the sky blue bottle strapped to the side. Gingerly she withdrew it and shuffled over to Draco.

"Hardly. I used the same potion the ministry uses. Are you implying theirs is subpar?" He shot back.

"I have no idea I have never used it but clearly it's failing in at least one regard, just like you. Stick out your tongue." In a childish move Draco did so, with his arms crossed and face scrunched. She tipped a drop onto the textured surface, watching it sizzle away.

"Sister you are fiery today. Be nice to your friend or I shall have to separate you." Draco spun as the words finally sorted themselves out in his brain.

"Granger? I didn't know you had any siblings and yet apparently everyone in this god forsaken country is related to you." He remarked somewhat civilly given the circumstances.

Arike laughed good naturedly. "She certainly is well loved. Hello friend of Sister 'Granger' as you call her. I am Father Arike, chief of this tribe. How may I address you?"

"How about 'three spineless ferrets stacked in a robe'?" Hermione suggested from where she was packing her kit back up. "'Conniving evil snake' would cover him pretty effectively too."

"Hermi." Arike chastised despite the fact she was just as old as he was. "You should be nicer to your friends."

"I wouldn't be friends with that harpy if you paid me." Malfoy scoffed, earning a dangerous look from the chief. While Malfoy didn't exactly shrink back, he did seem to make some calculations in his head.

"Were just colleagues." He added much more respectfully.

"Well colleague of Hermi. What shall I call you?"

"Draco, Draco Malfoy."

"Hm well Colleague Draco. I hope you are here to help and not just bicker. We have many lives that hang in the balance." He quickly turned towards Hermione, back to being her friend and brother. "Adio is the worst off we have. Maybe 2 more days. Her mother hasn't stopped weeping since last week."

"Malfoy, grab the basket. I left it by the door." She glided over the nearest bed casting a small cooling spell over her and the girl. While the heat wasn't oppressive she needed to sense any change in the girls fever at a moments notice. Currently, she was burning up.

Malfoy settled across from her, gingerly placing the basket full of Cure-All next to her. Or what she had hoped was actually Cure-All. She supposed this would be the test.

"What does she have?" Malfoy grimaced as the girl winced. Clearly lost in an unknown dream or pain. Hermione hoped for the former.

"I was hoping you could tell me." She gestured to the basket as she bent down to listen to the girls ragged breath. "It starts as a fever. Then their breath grows tight and choked. Then they fall into a coma. Cool her off."

"Is it a muggle disease?" He questioned as the bowl of river water was set beside him. With a suspiciously practiced hand he wrung just the right amount of water out before patting the girl's head clean of sweat.

"Not that I know of. We tried malaria, sleeping sickness, yellow fever. Literally everything remotely matching at least two of the symptoms. Anything else doesn't explain how it spread." She sighed as she looked at the filled beds.

"Is it fatal?" Draco asked as she uncorked the first vial of cure-all. 

"You either don't get sick, stay sick, or die. There is no getting better as far as I can tell. I need you to feel her head. Tell me if it gets warmer or cooler." He nodded, moving to rest the child's head in his lap. The back of his hand placed gently on her forehead. Poor Adio. She was only 6, she had just come to know magic and happiness before being struck.

"Magical then?" He offered, shifting Adio's head more upright as Hermione brought the potion close to her lips.

"I'm no healer." She responded as the potion seeped into the girls mouth. "Just a chemist."

When the bottle was empty she pulled back and waited. Only the sound of the fans squeaking and ragged breathing echoed. After a few minutes in silence she sighed. "We tried everything I could find for magic too. There is… I just don't know enough."

"Saint Mungos?" He suggested while gently petting the girls pillowy dark hair. It was an odd sight, she had never considered he could be gentle.

"I couldn't get anyone to come. And I couldn't risk moving someone there and starting a pandemic." But could she have tried harder. She could have name-dropped she supposed. But even then, if they didn't know she could have just infected another person.

"I have a family healer. She has always had a soft spot for children?"

"No." Arike stated from where he leaned against the door. "I appreciate the offer. It is kind. But sister Hermi and all of our people have dug through everything we could find. English books included. If this does not work. There is nothing. No need to kill anyone else."

"Oh." Draco looked down at the girl haunted. It was strange, seeing him as a person. It certainly distracted her from her failure of a potion. But that was not why she brought him.

"Draco." He looked up somewhat startled. "I know this may be insensitive. But I need to ask."

She glanced up at Arike who made a point to focus on the ceiling like it was diamond encrusted. "I brought you here because of your.. History. I need to know. Could this be a curse or..."

He seemed to think for a moment before opening his mouth and shutting it. Instead he closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment. It seemed like ages before he opened them again. "I am no expert. But it doesn't feel like it. Or at least it doesn't feel like dark magic to me. It may just feel different here. I don't know."

Somehow the statement seemed hollow or maybe that was just her. It was their last hope. A shot in the dark. Hours and hours of time wasted where she could have been looking for other answers. She almost killed herself, almost killed Malfoy. For a failed potion and another dead child.

"Granger." She glanced up but he was staring transfixed on the girl below him. "I think it's going down."

"Sorry?"

"Her fever. I think it's breaking. Feel." He removed his hand as she placed her own on the Adio's forehead. It felt nearly the same, almost no different, and yet. "I don't know if its actually changing or I am just hoping it-"

She removed her hand and placed her ear close to Adio's chest. Praying for a large breath. She was blessed with a large ragged inhale, immediately followed by a violent cough. Hermione sat up just in time to swipe for a bowl as the girl bolted upright, confusion in her eyes and a hacking cough. Horrid sounds exited the girl as she half hacked and half vomited into the bowl. She found herself surprised when she moved to rub Adio's back but already found Malfoy's hand there. She shot him a questioning look but he just shrugged.

"I've done this before you know." And while she didn't really count a drunken stag party in the same realm as a coughing child at least it seemed to be effective.

When the girl had finally worn herself out and leaned back Hermione checked the bowl. Inside was a thick tarry mucus. Certainly nothing that looked like it came from a human.

"Malfoy?" She gestured to the bowl and met his grimace. "I take it you've never seen it before?"

He shook his head before easing the small girl off his lap. Her breathing had returned to normal and her fever broken. She shifted awake for a moment before settling back on her pillow. Hermione had done it. Her last ditch effort was enough. And she had saved them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh I hate her-  
> Please trust me. Hermione is going to be a bit insufferable these first few chapters however she is not all knowing and all powerful. We are mostly seeing things through her's and Draco's eyes and they hateeeeee each other.
> 
> African Dreams-  
> We never get to see the actual world outside of Britain. Sure JK expands on it through Pottermore and twitter but so much time has passed since the series was actually conceptualized are we seeing her rewarding world now? Or the world the books took place in. I loved the idea of the being no real statue in a place where many people still believe magic happens. Even if they don't truly buy into it they still respect and maybe even fear it. I always figured the more mystical places on the planet would be much less adverse to a magical world.
> 
> A Black Mark-  
> In my mind the places on the planet that are aware of magic is would do a very detailed job of ensuring that bad magic that could turn the public against them is eliminated. Don't get me wrong, something will always slip through but I think it would be vitally important that the Ministry would carefully track it.
> 
> popbowa-  
> actual creature from Zanzibar mythology. Horrifying little vampire man bat thing.


	6. A Redeeming Vigil

The next hour was dreadful for Draco. It consisted of giving everyone in the hut/ hospital thing a measure of Cure-All followed by various amounts of hacking and vomiting. While he could forgive the small child, he was less tolerant of the young men. Instead, while Hermione and Arike comforted those coming out of their comas, he brought fresh bowls and piled the ones already filled with disease in the corner.

"Well have to burn those." He offered to the chief when the last hack had sounded and everyone had resumed sleeping. "While I am not sure what caused all this, every trace of it must be removed or it could come back."

"I will do that. Thank you Colleague Malfoy. Your help was essential."

"I was simply a pillow." He deflected. It was all too raw. Being so close to death, the death of more children. He sunk down the nearest wall to rest on the floor, his dark robes were hot and now dust covered.

"She told me what you did." Arike stated. "I know you English men are spirit touched but to fly into a monsoon. You must really love her for that."

"Ha." Malfoy scoffed at the very thought. "Love? No, Granger twisted my ankle. She has something I need, that's all."

Arike simply nodded and set about starting a fire in the center of the village. Hermione gathered the last of the bowls together and stacked them with the rest before settling near him. The silence was beginning to bother him so he spoke. "Has he ever seen anything like that?"

"No." She shook her head. "They are incredibly knowledgeable people too. The tribe has been here for thousands of years and passed down the information to each generation. They know the animals and illnesses of this country forwards and backwards. It's why they were so shocked when they couldn't identify it. Even worse when I couldn't."

"Will they be alright?" He was staring out across the beds. 28 of them. 28 lives saved at the risk of two. Could he argue with the math, even if one was his life?

"It looks like it. Adio is already up and has started calling for her mother." A brief silence passed between the two of them as the once silent hospital wing began to fill with chatter.

"I think it's time we go home." Hermione offered him her hand as she stood up. He stared at it a moment before brushing it aside using the wall for support. She just sighed and let her hand fall to her side.

"Agreed." He coughed out, feeling worn down. Together they walked out of the hut back into the village. He was now realizing it was all a cover. That all the primitive huts likely contained the same bungalow feel of the hospital if not better.

"Why do they hide like this?" He asked, not sure if he would get an answer. "Every single one of the people in there was highly magical. They could move to a city and do quite well for themselves. Especially if magic is known here."

Hermione shook her head. "They can't. This is a haven village, it must appear entirely muggle and harmless. They were set up by the ministry years ago. There are still some parts of Central Africa that have only known dark wizards and only know magic at its worst. When they turn out their magical children, they get taken in here, if they are found."

"What do you mean if they are found?" He questioned. Glancing around, what he had taken for an over abundance of children had a different spin on it when you look at it as the orphanage it was.

"Oftentimes the children are turned out onto the savannah. So that the spirits may take them back. Usually the ministry or a village like this one will find them. But not always."

"That's barbaric!" He thought of a child left alone in the wild land before him. "All sorts of horrid beasts live out there."

"It is. But it's better than nothing. If you had only known magic after seeing Voldemort would you ever want to use it? Or see your children use it? I think not. They stay here until they get their dream from Uagadou, then sometimes they come back for breaks."

He couldn't help but bristle at the comment. But it did make him think of every time he saw his parents', or aunt's, or just a random stranger's face twisted in pain. Every time he heard a dead body thunk hard against the ground. No, he could not honestly say that he would have any interest in magic at all except to be far away from it.

"Let's go." He stalked away from the village passing by the fire as he went. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a large hand clutched his arm slightly above his mark. Arike was staring intensely at him.

"You are dangerous. Black magic coats your very bones like a tar. It sits deep and dormant now but it still marks you. I do not know why you are with her. Sister Hermione is smart. She is brave and skilled and strong. But make no mistake, if something happens to her. There will be no place on this earth you can hide where the family will not find you. Is that clear?"

He was shaken by the sudden warning from an otherwise very gentle man but refused to lose his composure. "I am quivering. Best of luck with your recovery. And I do hope we never meet again."

He stomped off to wait by the tree they arrived under, adrenaline pumping. His body and mind were both worn out with the excessive stress of the past week. He desperately needed a day off.

The tapestry drifted in the wind, bending with the grass and allowing small peeks of the rising moon behind it to filter through. Now that the sun had gone down he transfigured his robes back to normal. Granger had told him they were heading back though he wasn't sure how.

 _Well let her exhaust herself._ He thought to himself. I've done more than enough favors for the day.

When she finally wandered up, the sounds of soft laughter and joy followed her. The moonlight reflected off her airy robes as they drifted in the breeze making her look ethereal and at peace. It put him in a right sour mood. "About time. If you intend to party the night away in this wasteland at least tell me how to get home first."

She smiled as she rolled her eyes. "Can't get to me tonight Malfoy. I have cheated death and walked away alive. Come on."

She sauntered up to the tapestry and opened it again. To his curiosity she let it fall out of her hands and drape closed again. She repeated this four times before pulling out her wand and waving him through.

Suspicious, he drew his and stepped cautiously into the opening. He was not in the old rug shop but instead exiting the employees bathroom in and almost clean, crowded pub. The familiar sounds of English ringing in his ears. So surprised that he nearly fell when Hermione flooed them into her workshop.

"It surprises me to say it, but good job today Malfoy. You saved a life, many in fact. Thank you." He sneered.

"Whatever I am going home." He swiftly started for the fireplace, dreaming of a warm bath and soft bed.

"Slow down." Hermione chuckled out. She met his look of exasperation with one of amusement. "Don't you want your potion?"

He froze. "The Cure-All? I thought we used it all?"

He had every intention of dragging Theo through the skies this weekend to brew his own batch, though he should get the rest of her recipe too.

"Two left, they're yours." She smiled and levitated the vials over to him. The dark purple twinkling in the tube like liquid amethyst. "One for you in case you got infected and one for… well, whatever you are hiding."

"Hiding? I am not hiding anything." He responded ruthlessly. She had no business thinking they were friends just because he didn't let a worthless brat die. He snatched the vials and some floo powder. "Keep your mudblood nose out of my business."

And with a flash he was home. Holding what he desperately hoped was the answer to at least one of his mistakes, leaving another behind for later day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On Orphans and Obscurials  
> So another point about places with magic. For everywhere there are understanding people, there are those who are afraid of what's different. It wouldn't surprise me at all that within the magical world as a whole there were muggleborn witches and wizards who got turned out of their own homes after causing what a logical person could at best cause a haunting. At worst think they've lost their mind. This is how we end up with obscurials people.
> 
> Uagadou
> 
> The African magical school does not send letters. Instead it sends dream messengers to identify a child as magical.


	7. A Swing

It was finally Saturday. Draco had spent the last two days trying to clean up the mess that was his week after Granger laid her hands on it. Missed meeting, news stories, and rumors abound. Granted the meetings were handled or rescheduled, there were always rumors and the news story was a small fluff piece about the newest starlet witch he was apparently seeing but still. Nothing like the past to come and uproot your happy life. Well, not happy but at least manageable.

He signed his last hiring contract in relief as he left the office last night. He had to work late in order to be sure he had the day clear for the weekend. Big things were in the works and he was somehow out of time and in no rush at all. It was a strange feeling for the usually decisive man.

Draco sighed from the comfort of his bed. It's four post and draped canopy making a safe and cozy shell. The dark silk sheets cocooning him in until he was ready to emerge for the day. The curtains reminded him of Hogwarts and home, back before it all went to hell.

He begrudgingly has Potter to thank for that. Granger by extension. Things got hairy after the war. Inquisitions, searches, questionings- no torture thankfully- but ultimately he was underage and his mother was a woman which in the Dark Lord's eyes made her a pawn and thus unworthy. Apparently too unworthy to drag her down with him. Although he was sure her stellar parties throughout the years and some nagging housewives did the trick. A last minute side change and lie to the most dangerous man on the planet to spare Potter may have helped too.

After all the seizures cleared up, a nice bit of money hidden away in a distant dead relations account had been found and inherited to Draco. He used it, along with his knack for demand vs supply cost to finally mass produce potions. Just the basic ones that apply for every standard witch and wizard, nothing too expensive to make or too difficult. He was even able to curate favor in the small local apothecary shops by buying a few and leaving them in the management of their previous owners. Stocking his standard potions of course. Let them labor over their love potions and wolfsbane. He will take care of your everyday headache, wart or upset stomach. At least on the base level.

Soon other shops followed suit, there was always a need for base potions but they are so… boring to create. They aren't that profitable either as they tend to have price limits set by the ministry to keep them accessible. But when he wasn't the one who had to make them, and he could make them in bulk? That's when they got profitable. His past had shrugged right off his shoulders, replaced with a medical caucus and crown. After all how could a dark wizard supply Saint Mungo's entirety at no charge? Does a monster donate to orphans and charity drives? How does a Death Eater set up a recovery program for war veterans? Who could possibly remember any of that nasty business?

He slid his arm out from under the sheet to glare at the ever fading dark mark. His father should have known the Dark Lord was still alive when his didn't all those years ago. Draco's grew lighter and lighter each day right after the war. It was now only a faint outline and brush of shadow. Not clear at all. It could have easily been an ink smug if Draco was the sort to smudge things. And yet…

Somehow those people saw. Many of them. Sure, the seer would know he supposed. He pondered for a moment before shuddering at the thought of how dangerous an effective, reliable seer could be. But how did the chief? Even the man in the rug shop? They were clearly all related, did they all carry the gift? Or has the magic infected him. Was the chief right?

It was this thought that kept him clear of the dark arts. Even the gray ones. His real career came in the form of those willing to pay for the specialized. The rare ingredients, the hard to find recipes, the questionable use. All that could ruin a man's reputation. But never his life. Though Draco had been asked to create some of the seedier potions, he always refused. The line was an easy one to cross and he only barely made it back last time.

With a sigh he decided that self loathing was bad for the skin and sat up. Immediately his house elf appeared, slowly drawing curtains back. Allowing time for his eyes to adjust to the relative brightness.

"Pinky I have a headache. I want more of that recovery potion you gave me earlier this week. It did wonders." He glanced and the house elf shifted fearfully under his gaze.

Granger did get her way on that. The second Potter became Minister of Magic all house elves were freed or taken on as staff with a wage to be paid. He picked up Pinky shortly after moving out of the manor.

"Master Malfoy. You are so skilled indeed. However Pinky is stupid. Pinky knows not where you keep the precious potion. Pinky is sorry!" Her pitch took on the high pitch whine that usually meant she was about to slam her head into something. It was far too early for this.

"I forbid you to hurt yourself." She paused with her forehead mere inches away from his bed post. Thinking of foreheads just made his headache worse. "Fine if you didn't buy it, where did it come from? Was it dropped off as a sample or something?"

"Pinky is worthless Master Malfoy. She should have known, she should have." Growling he stood swiftly up.

"Pinky. Do shut up. Or do I need to give you a raise?" Pinky like most of the older house elves hated that she was paid. The threat was enough to break her out of her self loathing.

"No Master Malfoy. It was not a sample. It came through the floo that night when you came home. Pinky found it in the ashes while cleaning. Pinky thought you had dropped it and wanted it ready in the morning. But Pinky knows Master Malfoy would never be so careless! Pinky is a bad elf. Pinky could have poisoned you!"

"Pinky!" the elf shut her mouth holding back tears. It was so much harder this way. He had considered giving up and just hiring a decent cleaning service but they were worse at keeping secrets. Also when he so much as suggested it he had to stop the house elf from flinging herself off the balcony. Now that would be a story for the papers.

"It is fine. I know where it came from. I just forgot-"

"Master needs no explanation. Pinky is only a lowly house elf of no importance. Pinky-"

"Needs to stop talking now and go find a healing potion. Ideally one of mine but at this point any will do." With a crack she was gone, most likely in a blind panic to redeem herself in some way. He cursed himself for drinking down the whole potion without thought. If he had saved some they could have at least tried to reverse engineer it. Well just one more thing he had to filch from Granger before ending this horrid deal. He had however not come out empty handed.

With what could be akin to reverence he gazed at the vials he had left in his glass safe. Visible only to him and his elf, he had kept them there for 3 days. Staring, waiting, praying he wouldn't have to use one and make a choice. She had said all of the villagers got sick or didn't. Some sort of natural immunity must be in place and clearly she had it so why couldn't he. He lived in anxiety for days, hoping he wouldn't need to use one of the precious cure-alls. Thanks to his devil luck he hadn't and assumed by now any symptoms would have appeared, leaving him the chance to finally make this whole venture worth it.

He glanced at his right arm, thinking of the oath. The gold chain shimmered into existence and he scowled. It meant nothing. It would disappear when he gave Blaise the potion. Blaise would be fixed and he would be free. Then his only worry would be clearing out her recipe stock and finding a way to keep Theo from working himself into an early grave. It would all be fine.

Climbing out of bed he slipped into a warm shower. It had taken him ages to get the dirt, sweat, and whatever germs clung to him off the last time he came home from Granger's. As a matter of fact after that storm debacle he had to call on Pinky to do his hair, much to his shame and her endless delight. She spent hours talking about how he should grow it out long, like a regal man of his station. Not likely. Although he was sure he could give Granger a good spook that way, maybe on All Hallows Eve. But he wouldn't be around by then.

He cut off the shower with a violent twist, annoyed to be starting the day thinking of the infuriating woman already. God she thought she was so much better than him. What's worse was that she actually had the skill to make it not a _totally_ baseless claim. What an low-born know-it-all swot.

The cold was starting to seep past the steam so he snatched a pre-warmed towel from the stack on the shelf beside him before dripping his way through the bathroom. As he shaved and brushed his teeth he made a point to flick the cream and toothpaste in much more of a mess than usual. He had felt a bit guilty about yelling at Pinky and this would make her happy in some weird way. When he entered his bedroom he found his potion, a pair of black slacks, a silk navy button up shirt and black thin tie. He dropped the all black ensemble when he ditched his Death Eater label but still stuck to darker colors whenever possible. He threw back his potion and slid into his tailored clothes that fit like a second skin before wandering out into the hallway. There was a gentle gasp and then some maniacal giggling in the bathroom. He just shook his head and went to the kitchen, leaving the house elf to her mess.

He wasn't even shocked to find Blaise and Theo lounging in his living room. Blaise with his feet on the sofa and reading some magazine and Theo happily gorging on what must have been an impressive spread. Ignoring them he wandered over to what remained of the toast and debated the merits of butter versus jam.

"Well then?" Theo ventured sliding into the seat next to Draco at his breakfast bar.

"Well then what?" Draco really wanted tea but needed the heavier kick of coffee and poured himself a mug.

"Your disappearing act?" Blaise suggested as he rose from the couch in a saunter. While Malfoy was saved by the skin of his teeth after the war, Blaise Zabini was saved by the cut of his jaw and his cheek bones. Draco supposed sitting out of the battle of Hogwarts helped as well.

"I don't recall." He decided on butter and slathered the toast in one go before shoving it gracelessly in his mouth.

"Well we got drunk in India, had a roaring time, charmed some lovely female companions into joining us for the night and then we wake up to the sounds of a crack and poof... your'e gone." Blaise settled on the other side boxing him in.

"What lovely sound effects. You should do film." Theo's hand on his shoulder indicated they would not be giving up any time soon and more importantly he would not be apparating away alone. "Oh fine. You would not believe what happened when I went to grab some ice. This stunning princess from Bali-"

"A princess from Bali?" Theo offered with a hint of skepticism.

"Yes, visiting Delhi on vacation."

"Bali doesn't have any princesses Draco." Blaise offered with an award winning smile of perfectly straight white teeth. "I know, I've tried."

"Well... it appears I have been had." He was sipping his coffee casually when he heard Blaise crack his neck. The hit came from Theo and knocked him backwards onto the living room carpet. Theo held him down as Blaise stood over him.

"Must we. I haven't had a day off in ages." Draco questioned boredly and wondering why couldn't they just leave it?

"I don't know must we?" Blaise supplied pulling out his wand. "A French model taught me this lovely version of the tickle jinx. Cute, but when used just the right way it's magic all its own. I've been needing practice. And I'm a slow learner."

Theo chuckled from his spot pinning down Draco's shoulders.

"Oh fine. Off you ingrate." He launched Theo with a shove, who let himself be pushed. It was somewhat calming to participate in the boyish games they still played, like a life he never really got to live. "I will tell you what I can."

Blaise fell back smugly on the nearest arm chair. His wand lazily drooping in his hand and his long legs kicked up yet again on Draco's very expensive furniture.

Theo stayed where Draco had pushed him. His long frame lounging on the rug and leaning against the wall of the fireplace. His darling waves were a shock of rich mahogany against the white marble of the floo. A lazily smile etched onto his face.

Draco drawing his wand cast a silent _accio._ As the potion appeared in his hand, his two mates watched him curiously.

"I was picking up an ingredient… for this." His eyes fixed on to Blaise and drifted to his arm. It was a cause that united to the boys through literally any roadblock in their friendship. Draco out of guilt, Blaise out of wish for a pain free life, and Theo, well because he was Theo. Practically a Hufflepuff that one.

"Okay and we couldn't come why?"

"The wi-" His left wrist stung painfully and for a moment he was violently filled with fear. It faded quickly. "The magical person I am working for is very private."

The lack of the burn on his skin indicated he had very little flex with the oath.

"Magical person? As opposed to a magical bird?" Theo suggested from his spot.

"More importantly, do we know him?" Blaise asked. The burn was back and Draco deflected.

"I cannot give you two any more information." It was diplomatic answer. One that pleased the oath and irritated his friends.

"What is this twenty questions? Why can't you tell us? You know we're all in this." Blaise fired off. Certainly he was about to launch into a lecture on friendship and trust Draco cut the chat short by holding up his arm and thinking of the vow.

Both of his mates stared at the delicate and wispy gold tendrils snaking around his wrist and up his forearm. "Very private."

"Shit Draco. That's pretty intense... What did you promise?" The oath lines flared with only a mild warmth to him but a clear effect on Blaise. "Okay okay never mind. I won't ask."

"That wasn't smart Draco. Unbreakable oaths are dangerous." Theo had stood from his spot moving closer to investigate his new bracelet. "This one is well made too, no weak points or loopholes. Whatever you promised you have to stick to."

"I am well aware of that. And hopefully it will be gone in a few minutes. " He couldn't manage to keep the growl out of his voice and quickly changed the subject before he ended up burned or dead. "Blaise I need you to drink this. Careful with it."

Shaking loose the last strands of the oath he drifted the potion over Blaise who caught it with his good hand. He glanced at the potion before uncapping it and sniffing.

"You _were_ had Draco. This is just Cure-All."

"I know."

"We did this years ago. In every iteration. It doesn't work and it's bitter." Blaise responded testily.

"Just try it. It's different this time." He and Theo held their breaths as Blaise sighed and threw the potion back. Unlike the villagers, the effect in him was immediate. He rolled back his shoulder in astonishment and scrunched his nose.

"Wow, this is great!" Blaise exclaimed with excitement. But not enough.

"It didn't work." Draco's flat delivery deflated Theo who was still hoping for the best.

"Of course it worked! I pulled a muscle in my shoulder last week and it's fine now. Ah, and my hangover from last night, gone! Woah! I think you fixed an ingrown toenail nail too. That's weird."

"Your arm you absolute buffoon!"

"Oh, well it hurts less." Blaise flexed his fingers, cringing as the muscles strained before looking away.

"God damn it!" Draco roared and cleared the nearest table, a lamp crashing to the floor violently. Theo was well prepared for his tantrums and had stepped clear, moving over by Blaise to stare out the window. "All that for nothing!"

"Hey! I think my allergies are gone!"

"Well good for your fucking sinuses." Draco spat, the thick taste of failure rolling in his mouth. He had signed his life away to Hermione Fucking Granger and he still failed. How far can you sink?

"Look, Draco. We'll keep trying." Theo offered. His comforting pat on the shoulder just left Draco feeling more empty.

"Like... old war wounds aside, you should really bottle this stuff. It is wholly unlike any other Cure-All I have ever had. Fuck I feel wired!" Blaise laughed from his chair.

"Unfortunately, it is both difficult and near impossible to make. So don't go craving it because I am never going through that again." Draco sighed weakly. Another failure. But no time to pout. There is always something else to try. In this case he still had to research that Skelegro recipe, that could be something.

"That's a bloody shame. Let's hit the town. I could really go for a drink. Or maybe a game of quidditch. It's been ages since I felt this good. Theo you can keep." Blaise bubbled his way to the door forcing the other two to follow. Draco will always try again, Blaise will always bitch then take the potion, Theo will always say they'll get it next time. At least until they got it or one of them died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry SPEW-
> 
> Okay, house-elfs in this universe I am going with the technically freed, but none really left. They were all given the option to choose their masters and when to use their magic but years of servitude and being bred to find joy in cleaning won't be undone by a simple decree.


	8. And a Miss

Reading the report from Arike, she took what may have been the first fully relaxed breath since the start of this mess two months ago. In all honesty, she should have been working on something. She had potions to brew, ingredients to harvest, and shops to check in on. However, for just this moment she would drink her tea and read the all clear letter that had appeared in her mail basket this morning.

All healed, walking, and with no sign of long term damage. No additional patients. No secondary infections... A lovely way to start a Saturday.

She was so worried that she should have kept the last two potions, just in case. But the way Draco's eyes had lusted after them, like they were an antidote for the poison that infected his soul, sent shivers up her spine. She had taken pity on him and he had to ruin it. God it made her angry just thinking about it!

Her left wrist twinged with a slight stabbing sensation. Without glancing down she knew it was the vow. She had been able to use it against him sure, but she had her own end of the bargain to uphold. She figured the pain wouldn't get unbearable until at least Monday and by then he should have used his potion on whatever he needed and she would be free. So for this one rainy fall Saturday she picked up Crookshanks and climbed into the window with a blanket and a book of fairy tales.

000000000000000000000000

One crashed broom later and Draco dropped Theo and Blaise off at a clinic to have Blaise's arm repaired... Again. He spent the rest of the day lounging around his library trying to find out why the Cure-All didn't work. Why it would cover some mysterious African disease but not a basically broken bone. It made no sense.

He cursed himself before slamming another useless book shut and stalking toward a window overlooking the Thames. He let his rage boil like the thunderclouds passing above until it wore itself out. He really should be used to failure by now. They have been doing this for 5 years.

A quick glance at the clock and he cursed again. It was well past two in the morning and he had to be at Saint Mungos by 7:00 am if he wanted to avoid being seen. Looking wistfully at the remaining vial in his glass safe he sighed before falling into bed, decidedly not caring about the state of his clothes.

He was shaken away all too early by Pinky. Since it was Sunday, she knew better than to speak and simply pointed to his clothes before disappearing with a crack. He drug his hands through his hair and grimaced. He knew it was only a matter of time before he got called back to Granger's sad excuse for a workshop and had every plan to chew her out over her hack job of a potion. As well as a healthy dose of questions as to why it didn't work. He should be free of her awful existence by now.

Dressing swiftly he grabbed the extra vial, tucked it in his inner pocket, and swept out the front door. Safely in the dead end of his hall he waved his wand thinking deeply of the gates outside of Saint Mungo's. He felt a pulling sensation at his stomach and his feet landed softly on wet pavement.

Turning to face the place, the great stone façade rose up powerfully in front of him. An imposing castle in the middle of London, hidden from muggle eyes. He wondered what they saw, if it was a castle to them or the prison he knew it to be. Someone once mentioned they thought the muggles saw a condemned building and he found the comparison apt.

He drifted through the gates and onto the sterilized grounds. Behind all the mist and grim he was sure there was a lovely garden that one may walk in the afternoon. The breeze and sun would burn away the fog by ten and it would be perfect for a picnic. Not that it was ever relevant for him.

He followed the glowing lights from the apparition point up a hill and to the private side doors. Just as he approached the doors unlocked and opened preemptively for him. He was told long ago that visiting hours were set by the building not by the staff and over the years the building began letting him in earlier and earlier, almost as if it sensed his need. After all, Saint Mungo's was nearly as magical as Hogwarts and no one could agree if it was alive or not.

He wiped his feet on the mat respectfully and made his way down the hall. It was still dimly lit for the comfort of the patients. It was so hard for anyone in the 49th ward to sleep anyway so the lights in the corridor were kept dim until at least noon. Unlike in other parts of the hospital these patients all had private rooms. It was a requirement of his donation. They at least deserve the illusion of personhood.

He wandered over to the last door on the left and braced himself before knocking.

"Come in." The airy voice from inside answered. It was thready and weak. He pushed open the stocky wood door with his shoulder and sighed in relief as bright sunlight peeked into the hallway.

"Hurry dear, you are letting all the gloom in." He smiled at his mother's voice. It must be good day.

A quick step to the side let him in and he shut the door heavily as so not to bother any other patients. His eyes adapted to the room quickly and found himself in a picturesque scene. His mother was wrapped clumsily in a hospital gown with her fine ivory hair piled on top of her head in what could be kindly considered a weavers nest. She was resting on a cast iron garden table and chair overlooking a garden similar to the one at the Malfoy manor. He hadn't seen it so bright in ages.

"It is so lovely to see you. Although I must admit I was not expecting visitors today. Do you have a card?" She asked haughtily. From anyone else it would look ridiculous demanding a card for a visitor while sitting in what was essentially an oversized bathrobe. But from Narcissa Malfoy it was a forceful yet formal demand.

"Of course Ms. Malfoy." Pulling out a blank shifting card he handed it to her. He waited for her to identify the part he was to play. "Ah, Regulus. So nice to see you. You'll have to pardon my outfit. Apparently the house elves need a reminder of their job points. Please have a seat."

"It's been ages dear cousin." Draco responded despondently. He didn't like playing family. It felt too close to familiar. He settled on the chair that materialized across from her. "The gardens are beautiful as ever."

"Oh yes, I haven't seen you since… oh I think it was a wedding. So many nowadays. Tea?" Draco nodded and was treated to a cup of tea she had poured herself, only slightly spilling on the saucer. "Oh my. How rude. I apologize. I am not sure what…"

Her eyes glazed as she tried to figure out exactly why her hands shook so much. Draco reacted quickly while snatching the china teacup and saucer. "Oh it was my fault dear. I bumped the plate. You have always known my table manners to be horrid."

Thankfully she had taken the excuse and folded her hands back into her lap. He sipped the room temperature water in the cup that had been spelled into a light brown. She wasn't allowed to have tea. It tended to set her off if it wasn't made exactly the way she wanted and that changed day to day.

"The gardens, yes. We have been so busy these last few years Lucius and I." She sipped from her own cup as she gazed out on the huge hedge maze. It was fresh planted and just tall enough to cover his head.

"I had the maze planted last year. Perfect for the little ones. For when they come…" She trailed off and Draco tried not to let the words sting too much and simply nodded.

"Has the weather been good to you Narcissa?" And so the conversation continued. His mother chatted about the weather, decades old fashion and outdated gossip about people, most of which were dead by now.

"And Bella, she's fallen in with a bad crowd I am afraid. I'm sure you saw them recently? At our wedding? Some upstart new graduate working at Borgin and Burkes. Can you imagine? Sometimes I wonder if she is just trying to make mother angry."

Draco took a deep breath to center himself. It was hard seeing his mother on her bad days but in a different way. When she was screaming and crying he at least knew a small part of the real her was still there, even if she was in pain. Seeing his mother like this not only felt like a lie but also like a picture frozen in time. A different kind of trap.

"Well, I do have a belated wedding gift for you." He fingered the bottle of Cure-All resting in his lapel. "But it is only for you and not for Lucius. Well a bit for him as well I suppose."

Draco smiled as his mother perked up in interest. He worked hard to think of an appropriate gift from this family member. In her diary, Regulus was a romantic at heart, she had spent their youth teasing him about his poetry.

"It is a potion." He offered as he withdrew the bottle with a flourish. He made sure to let the sunlight sparkle through it like a fine gem. Her hand twitched as she admired it.

"Oh you shouldn't have! The enchanted umbrella stand was more than enough." Whether or not she had actually received an enchanted umbrella stand for her wedding was a toss up. On one had she was mentally injured on the other she had a scarily accurate memory for the majority of his life.

"Well that was for both of you. This my dear, if for you entirely." She took the bait and lightly reached out to clutch the vial.

"What does it do?"

"It is a new creation from a favored lover of mine. When drunk it will make you smell like whatever the person you love most wants. Similar to amortentia with less, uncouth complications."

"Regulus, you cad. You should just marry one of them already. The house of Black dwindles quickly and lord knows your wretched brother won't be contributing to the family bloodline." She twisted it around in her hand examining it. "Lucius is on a trip currently but I will take this as soon as he gets back. Thank you."

Draco forced himself to smile "I am glad you like it dear cousin."

"Maybe I will have to ask for more by that point!" She smirked. "He is sooo eager for an heir that it doesn't take much to encourage him."

Feeling vaguely nauseated Draco coughed out something that could pass as a chuckle which seemed to be an acceptable reaction.

"We were thinking Draco for a boy. Keeping with family tradition. His father wanted Nickolas." She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "How dreadfully ordinary.

"Indeed my dear." He choked out, his heart aching as he stood. "Unfortunately I must be going. Be sure to let me know how that potion takes would you?"

"Of course. I am sorry to keep you. Just head out the front. If you see one of those dreadful elves please kick them and send them straight to me." The words did not match the candy sweet smile on her face. He simply nodded before exiting through the door. Once he was in the lit hall he sank to the floor with his back against the door. Taking slow and even breaths he steadied himself.

"How is she today?"

He looked up momentarily startled before being greeted by Thanius. The spell on the floor had hidden his hoof beats so Draco didn't even notice until he was just a short distance away. Thanius was clearly not trying to tower but it is difficult when the centaur is twice the size of a standing man, let alone a sitting one.

"My father wanted to name me Nickolas." He pushed himself up to properly address his mother's healer. "I had figured he had picked Draco."

"Amazing what the mind holds as important, is it not?" His body was a dark roan with splotches of white. He had his graying hair pulled back into a braid, likely to prevent anyone from pulling at it.

"Yes. You're walking into the garden. She's quite miffed with the house elf service today."

"Ah so a good day indeed. Anything else I need to know?"

"I gave her a potion. I am hoping if she drinks it, it will help."

"What is it?" Thanius inquired as he made notes on Narcissa's chart.

"A derivative of Cure-All." Draco responded honestly. Thanius stopped scratching.

"Cure-All doesn't work on the mind."

"This one is different. It covers a lot more aliments than the standard stuff."

"Interesting." Thanius mused while returning to the chart. "Any chance I can get a prototype?"

"Unfortunately not. It is very, very dangerous to make. That will be the only bottle you or I ever see."

The centaur nodded and closed his work. "Then I will try my best. I just hope she doesn't throw it at the wall before we even get a chance."

"Right. I should get going. Before standard visitors arrive." Draco nodded to the man before drifting back down the hallway to his private entrance. The door unlocked obligingly and let him pass out of the fourth floor and back onto the veranda. A short walk down the hill and he was back to the apparition point. He waited for the arrivals of the prompt 9:00 rounds to dissipate before reaching the point himself. Just as he was about to jump he heard a crack sound nearby.

"Malfoy."

"Longbottom. You're late." Draco remarked as the man appeared in a flutter of robes beside him.

"We don't all get special visiting hours. How is your mother?" He asked without moving. They rarely crossed paths but when they did they kept it civil.

"As well as she can be."

"A good day then?"

"Yes, I wish the same for you."

"Me too. Me too." With the niceties out of the way Neville Longbottom strode off on the path, the sun beginning to burn away the fog and promising the rest of the visitors much nicer weather. With a sigh he apparated home a plan to stay in his workroom until late into the evening. Mind full of questions and no one to answer them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's Magical Mailbox-  
> I am currently on Chapter....25ish and I still haven't found a place to slip this in so here it is for you. Hermione has a mail basket. It is connected to a box at the central owlery where letters can be delivered. If placed in the said box the letters will appear in her own home without any owls arriving or anyone needing to know her actual address.This was set up after the war when people realized you could find people's homes by following an owl.
> 
> Magical Medical wings-  
> The private rooms in the Saint Mungo's hospital adjust to the ideal environment based on their resident's moods. This helps keep moods stable for longer as well as giving the healers a head's up in regards to how their patient is faring. 
> 
> Shifting cards-  
> A piece of parchment usually used to fool muggles. It becomes credentials for whatever service they expect or need allowing a wizard to pass an identification check.


	9. A Major Assumtion

He had only just settled into his study when he was interrupted by a distant knocking sound. This was not that strange in theory, considering his study shared a wall with the foyer. However, he tended to be a private individual and not many people had his actual address. Of those that did, mainly Blaise and Theo, he couldn't recall the last time any actually bothered knocking.

It seemed to confuse the house elf as well as she slowly creaked the heavy oak door to his study open. "Master Malfoy."

He sighed closing his useless book on the treatment for jittercat spit's bone dissolving properties. It was likely going nowhere anyway, considering that the first recommended treatment was to cut off whatever body part was infected before it spread. Not that Blaise hadn't considered it once or twice. Honestly, if it hadn't been his wand hand he genuinely may have done so already.

"What?"

"There is someone at the front door." The house elf supplied cautiously. He rubbed his face in frustration.

"Who?"

"Pinky is not sure."

"Well go answer it then." He scoffed. With a small yelp Pinky closed the door silently and the knocking ceased for a moment. If it was some sort of saleswizard or press person she would quickly send them on their way. He mused for a moment about which reference book he should withdraw from the ancient oak bookshelves next.

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK!

He jumped as the large oak door echoed the persistent sounds around the room. Pinky would certainly never let just anyone barge into his study without telling him who it was. Partially out of indignation and partially out of anger he stomped over to the door, wand drawn.

"What is so bloody import-" As he ripped open the door a blur of brown shot past his eye and began to ricochet around the room.

"Pinky is sorry master. She opened the door and poof the thingy shot past her before she could stop it." Pinky whined from somewhere behind him as he spun to track it. "Pinky has good magic she does, but cannot spell it away!"

Draco only half listened as the… thing seemed to regain its sense of direction and hovered over his desk. After a quick adjustment it shot directly in front of his face. The dark wooden shard had the crude carving of a three eyed cat, similar to the one outside of Granger's shop in Delhi.

It lightly but insistently tapped against his forehead. He reached up for it curiously. With a speed that startled him it flew into his hand and he felt the distinct pulling sensation of a portkey before his vision blurred and his clean elegant study was replaced with a dark wooden cave of a workshop.

This time he was able to get his feet under him and land somewhat gracefully on the rough slats of the floor. He held the talisman up to his hand staring at it with disbelief.

"I hate you." He spat in shock.

"How good of you to join us Creatin." A strained voice sounded from behind him. Turning he found a slightly sweaty and irritated witch behind him collapsed on a nearby couch.

"How did this thing find me? It shouldn't have even been able to make it to my front door. Let alone actually in my house." He demanded. His wards were absolute. The best of his skill and the best that money could buy. To think an insignificant charmed piece of bark could make it past them was outlandish.

"Magic leaves traces." She breathed out "It knows you. Thus it's able to find you. Took long enough though."

_How violating._

Her left arm was clutched to her chest which was heaving up and down like she had just run a great distance. What a slob.

"This is how you've been getting me here? A stalking portkey." He tossed the portkey to the ground hoping to shatter it into a million pieces. Instead it stopped itself right before it hit the wood, hovering for a moment and then shooting itself back into his pocket. "Jesus Granger, you could just give me your Floo address. Or send an owl."

"Well if you hadn't stormed out so quickly last time, it would have already been in your pocket and wouldn't have needed to find you." She spat out tartly hauling herself up to a sitting position. "And like I would ever give you my address. You'd probably pop in here randomly just to torch the place."

"I resent that. Well, why am I here oh great and knowledgeable teacher?" He scoffed checking his nails for any ink left behind from his earlier work. "If you were lonely I recommend getting a dog. You might even get lucky and have it kill that beast you call a cat."

"Crookshanks has more value to me than your sorry self. As for why your here," She flipped around her bare wrist revealing a nasty netting of burn lines twisting up her arm. "Why _are_ you still here?"

He paused for a moment somewhat horrified before recalling how amused she was when the same thing happened to him. He crossed his arms and smirked. "Well well, going back on your word then Granger? How naughty."

She rolled her eyes before staggering onto her feet and over to a deep wooden hutch with its doors swung wide. "Hardly. You were doing something that was aggravating it. I figured you and I were done; but then I had to find your pathetic excuse of a home."

He made no attempt to help. "Well you did manage to find it. At least you are halfway competent."

"Drop the witty commentary. What did you want?" She pulled out a red bottle with a light brown cork using her good hand. Rather gracelessly she clutched the bottle's neck and gripped the cork in her teeth.

"I 'rood 'ather," The cork came loose with a pop and she spat it off to the side. "Avoid that in the future."

"Hm, how charming." He responded wrinkling his nose. "I'll have you know I don't deign to think about you under the best of terms. I couldn't possibly imagine the reason for your newest beauty routine."

"Well fine. You have the damn talisman. Keep it around. Next time the oath starts bugging me I will bring you here. Just please be wearing underwear at least." She tossed back the potion and sighed in immediate relief before gliding away. Her robes were a loose woven fabric that ended at the knee with asymmetric sleeves in deep burgundy. The paleness of her healing arm shocked next to the rich color. It was a terrible choice on her part. She looked sickly and unbalanced.

"If you were so bothered by it why not try the healing potion first? I was busy, you know."

Her deadpan expression reminded him vaguely of a disapproving nanny.

"Don't you know anything?" She said. "Healing potions only work to heal the damage that is done, they can't do anything to stop the damage from continuing. And as long as you were doing, whatever it is you were doing, it would have just burned over it again."

He scoffed. "Well it's not like I know the in and outs of unbreakable vows. It's not exactly everyday magic."

"Fine, well if I am going to be subjected to your presence then I am going to use it. It's time for a lesson." She turned heel and sauntered over to her work table. A giant hardwood piece with thick sturdy legs and a butcher block top.

"Lesson?" He scoffed, as if she could teach him anything he didn't already know.

"Yes, lesson." She assured as she gathered up assorted vials and knick knacks into a small beaded bag tied to her belt. With the amount she had scooped in there, there may be an extension charm or six on it. "We are going to be learning about ingredients today. And the importance of quality."

With nothing better to do he sauntered over to the table and leaned against the wall near a coat rack containing a variety of ugly scarves and jackets. "I hardly doubt a mudblood like you would know quality if it bit you in the eye."

He quickly found a wand drawn and aimed directly at his face. The vinewood glowed a light blue menacingly. Behind it the young witch looked much more imposing that five minutes prior. Her eyes glazed over with fury with a scowl etched on her chapped lips.

"Let's get one thing straight Malfoy. I may have needed you for one thing but that is over and done with. The second I can find a way out of this vow I will take it. You however still need something from me. If you ever hope to find whatever stupid slip of information made you desperate enough to sell yourself to me, you better learn to treat me like a human. The vow is much tighter on your end and I am much better with non-lethal curses than you are."

"You wouldn't dare." He stared down defiantly at the roan headed witch before him. He reminded himself he probably shouldn't be pushing the 'brightest witch of their age' to injure him but Merlin he just had to. He just couldn't help himself.

"Try me." She shot back drawing her wand away before smiling sweetly. "I'll call it a lesson in hexes and there will be nothing the oath will do for you. Now come."

She snatched a scarf off the coat rack behind him and spun towards the floo. "We have places to be and the sooner I can get you out of my sight the better."

He toyed with the idea of refusing to move but knew it was a fight he would eventually lose. Instead he chose to wander over as slowly as possible. Taking great care to push himself off the wall with what looked like great effort. He couldn't help but smile as she rolled her eyes, maybe they would fall out of her head soon.

"Well at least tell me where we are going this time." She grabbed a large handful of powder and gave him a light shove into the fireplace tossing the scarf around her neck. At least this time speaking loudly enough for him to hear.

"Suli's house. Agrabah." In a mass of flame and soot they were on their way.

0000000000000000000000000

They stepped out of the coals and into a well-lit parlor. Thick limestone walls with arched windows allowed a hot breeze to pass through the room as well as light. The mosaic tile floor pieced into a red and white lotus drifting in a pond of alternating light and dark blue ripples. Suli had made it herself.

Speaking of the witch in question, she quickly scurried into the room. Her long thick hair was twisted into a braid and hung down her back like a thick snake. Her thin linen skirt drifted across the tile, it's glitter-patterned hem brushing it lightly. It wrapped once around her ribs then pulled up into a intricate tie winding around her neck resulting in a complicated but beautiful dress.

"Hermione, it is so good to see you." Her motherly voice was kind and clear. She was only in her late twenties but had the distinguished air of an older, wiser woman.

"Yes yes. She is perfection incarnate and an angel descended from heaven or whatever nonsense you are about to spit. Now can we skip the prattle and move on?" Hermione sighed and felt a headache coming on.

"Ah, I take it this is your apprentice you wrote me about. He does have the ego of an erumpent and temper of a fickelfly. No wonder you look so tired." An indignant scoff was enough of a response from Malfoy to serve as an introduction.

"Unfortunately yes. However if he is here we might as well use him." The kind woman nodded.

"Ali's work got extended another two weeks and I am desperately low on sandskirter scales so it's a fortunate tragedy for me. Do you want to explain the rules while I get ready?" She left the room to get ready leaving Hermione with an insulted Malfoy.

"What an irritable cow. How did we get here anyway? Don't all floo networks need to go through the ministry?"

"Legally speaking, yes. However, there are ways around everything. Now, do you want to actually learn something for once or would you rather we leave you here like a scolded child." He huffed and leaned against the wall.

"Fine. If the two of you are just going to browbeat me into it."

"Potion ingredients." She repeated, happy he seemed resigned to his fate. "We are going out to both gather and buy various plants, creatures and stones native to the seven deserts. I would consider changing. While better than traditional robes, your dress clothes stick out like a sore thumb."

"And why exactly do I need to be here for this?" With a practiced ease he pulled out his wand and began to mutter a spell. "What style?" 

"Baggy pants and a long overcoat. Silk or linen." He nodded as his slacks stretched out a thinner version of black joggers and his button down elongated into a deep emerald green robe with a knot based gold trim. "As for why you're here, well I suppose you'll find out soon anyway."

She herself began the complicated wrap with her charmed scarf. Draping it around her head to ensure that it was covered nearly completely.

"Witches here are not allowed to purchase certain things without being accompanied by a man. While this is a fully magical city, some of what is offered is locked behind a gate that requires certain equipment we don't have." The scarf settled into place allowing the charms to take hold. While feeling no different she knew that Malfoy would see her wrapped up in a thick brown robe and a heavy woolen head scarf with only her face peeking out.

"Merlin you must be suffocating. Well more so than usual." He added quite helpfully.

She unfolded the scarf by an inch allowing the illusion to fall before tucking it back in. "It's charmed to appear that way. After my second time catching heat stroke I needed another solution."

"Well, if that's the case why not just polyjuice into a man. Or if that's too distasteful just charm yourself to appear to be one."

"Wow, we have never considered that! What would we do without you?" She deadpanned, pulling Draco's shirt straighter before he slapped her hands away. "Charm detectors. They will check us when we walk into the market. They couldn't care less about a fashion charm. They will get suspicious with a body charm. They are built to prevent law breaking after all."

Perfectly timed, Suli glided into the room in a similar outfit to Hermione but of a finer material. Her lovely wrap was completely hidden in a shapeless rug.

"You look very handsome Mr. Malfoy. If not a tad overdressed. Hermione, you look… effectively covered."

"Well I think she looks better this way, there's less her to see the better." Malfoy shot back from the fireplace. Suli chuckled into her hand.

"He is like a petulant child, isn't he."

"Do you want an escort or not?" The wizard responded testily before pushing off the wall and heading towards the door.

"Oh fine, fine. I was only joking. Here, you will be playing the part of my brother today. Hermione will be our housekeeper. Thus excusing her to look over all the ingredients for the five hours she insists upon."

"Why Granger. You didn't say I get to treat you like a housewitch. This sounds significantly more fun." He smirked as Suli laced her arm through his, every bit the lady.

"Be careful Malfoy. You may just find your housekeeper has slipped arsenic in your tea and you can no longer breathe." She muttered as they stepped out into a lavish courtyard, Malfoy and Suli strolling along arm in arm.

"Does it matter that we don't look at all alike?" He questioned the native witch as they followed the garden path towards the towering gates.

"Not particularly. Many men have multiple wives, we could have come from different mothers."

"Hm, fascinating. The garden is lovely, is that jasmine I smell?" He settled into his role of gentlemanly brother so easily it made Hermione's blood boil. As they stepped through the large stone gates Hermione squirmed as Malfoy charmed Suli. Sure, Suli would probably see through it but it was just unfair how kind and interested he was in her. The only Malfoy she had ever met was conniving and at best snippy.

Suli's manor was located just off the main bazaar. Close enough for convenience but not too close to indicate a lower status than she was. As the daughter of a Vizar and wife of a famous curse breaker she shouldn't even be shopping for her household. But Suli was always a contrary spirit. She freed her father's house elves when she was 8 much to his anger. She managed to avoid serious punishment by tricking the Sultan into seeing it as a humbling act, thus elevating her father's position in the leader's eyes. It was hardly a surprise that there was no help of any kind to be found in her home once she married. It did present a problem when the two of them needed to go shopping and Ali was gone though.

As they entered the market they passed under large stone arches. At the top enchanted stone cobras twisted in ever continuing loops, ruby eyes glittering at those who passed under them. They were looking for any out of the ordinary magics and would strike and bind any soul they deemed suspicious. However, that did not apply to their little group today, which passed under the snakes' watchful eyes before they shifted to the next visitor.

Suli guided them first to a butchery and stepped through the gate tittering at something Malfoy had said. Likely some humorous story about torturing kittens. As Hermione followed through the door, the cases of various creature parts gave her the perfect excuse to distract herself. It was a few moments later when examining an exceptionally fine dandan fin when their plan was set into action.

"Why lovely miss." The shopkeeper cooed from behind the counter. "What would you need with such a volatile creature ingredient? Surely you would rather stick to the more womanly arts."

"Actually-"

"No, no I insist. Such distastefulness should not be touched by such a fair beauty. Why don't we examine a safer prospect, hm? I have some lovely Roc feathers that could be used in a fine sleeping draught. Or perhaps some pixie breath for a room freshening spell. Much less of an unpleasant assault on such a delicate desert flower such as yourself."

"You misunderstand sir." Malofy's voice behind her made her jump. She was so used to Suli's husband's rich and hearty chuckle that the ice cold hiss behind her was completely unexpected. "My housewitch is gathering ingredients for me. She knows precisely what I need and I would ask that you let her do what I pay her for without forcing me to intervene."

His arm laced stiffly in Suli's with his shoulders pulled back and nose raised slightly sent off the very clear message that this was a very high born wizard who was not to have to repeat himself. It was highly discomforting how much he reminded her of his sire.

"Why of course, my lord. I meant no offense. She must be very well trained to have such an eye." The shop keeper had shifted all his attention to Draco. Clearly sensing a big purchase on the horizon. And maybe a curse or two if he caused too much of an affront.

"Quite. She was born into the family and I would not keep a useless thing around so long. Girl, finish grabbing what I need quickly. The next time I reach for Boomslang skin I expect it to be there."

Trying not to bristle too much, Hermione perused the rest of the materials at her leisure as Draco and the shopkeeper haggled over price. At some point Suli must have slipped him the money as by the time she selected some fine Quareen smoke he made a final payment before following her out of the shop.

He quickly strode ahead of her towards a large archway just off the main street. At one point it clearly held a shop but was currently vacant and stripped down to the wooden shelves and stones.

"The absolute nerve." Malfoy ranted as he paced in the walkway. "Can you believe that man? Room freshening potion? Womanly arts? Delicate desert flower? Why, if my mother were here he would be nothing but a pile of ash."

"What? You don't think she is a flower?" Suli questioned as her leisurely pace finally caught her up to them.

"She broke my nose our third year. To indicate she couldn't handle some ghoul's oil would be an insult to her and to my skull. How dare he even imply-"

"Malfoy, as amusing as it is to see you defend my honor-."

"It's not your honor I am concerned with Granger. The very idea that an entire sex is incapable of potion brewing. Just think of all the genius minds dedicated to-" He twisted his hand wildly in the air. "Hair straightening treatments or breath freshening potions. What an absolute waste!"

"While this is lovely we do have other things to tend to. Hermione, would you make him stop?"

"Draco," She offered, catching his shoulder as he stomped by. He opened his mouth, likely to spew another rant but she cut him off. "We know it's unfair. There is nothing to be done about it though. Suli is trying. There is change coming but it is slow and most importantly not our place as foreigners to interfere."

"Can they not see how absolutely backwards it is!" He shot off again tossing his arm back. "The absolute lunacy-"

"I understand you are enraged. I know it is unfair. But please calm yourself. We have other things to do and we are fighting this in our own way. Shaming our customs only hurts all of us and gets nothing done other than making you feel good about yourself. For now we just need you to walk beside us. Is that so hard?"

Suli's response was cutting and cold. It was so unlike the young witch Hermione was surprised her throat was even capable of producing the tone.

Malfoy's face had schooled into a stone façade. Hermione was certain he was about to launch into another rant or attack Suli in misplaced anger. However, to her surprise, he simply took a deep breath and nodded.

"Right. " He looked the witch directly in the eyes while clearing his throat. "Pardon my outburst, It won't happen again."

Hermione's jaw could drop in shock. It was such an out of character reaction.

"I pardon you. For now we have a few more shops to visit before heading out to the fields. Although do keep that icy air about you. Ali is far too friendly and we pay more in coin because of it." With that she turned on her heel, leaving Draco and shell-shocked Hermione to catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Find Me Charm-  
> This portkey has a find-me Charm. It is a charm that can only be placed on an object that will spend a considerable amount of time close to a human's person. Once separated it will be able to find the witch or wizard again by tracing it's magical signal. It cannot apparate by itself and is limited to the standard travel speed of a piece of wood flying through the sky. It also must follow the wizard chronologically until it it withing 20 meters.
> 
> Agrabah and the seven deserts-  
> This is the magical community of Iraq. A countries wizarding world still must follow the requirements of it's source continent. This is also reflected in how wizards will wear muggle clothing when waltzing around London.


	10. A Burning Question

Draco inspected another small lilac colored flower closely. While the dark red pistil and golden pollen covered stamen both looked acceptable, something about it felt wrong. Slowly he twisted the flower clockwise, tracing the dark purple veins threading through the petals.

There. Right near the center an otherwise perfect flower had a barely noticeable smooth surface. At some point during its youth it had been damaged and healed over leaving the scar. Shame, it was otherwise a perfect specimen. With a careless toss the flower fell from his hand into the ever growing discard pile joining thousands of it's fellows.

"Alright, I gave you your chance." He drawled, stretching out his legs under the short table. It was rough sitting with them crossed for so long. Don't get him wrong, he was very used to the tedium of long hours and repetitive tasks. But when he did it, he had a lush chair with back support, not a thin pillow on a packed dirt. "Why are we doing this again?"

"Malfoy, you of all people should know the importance of quality ingredients." To be fair, Hermione looked equally as uncomfortable as she sat across from him with her own sizable pile of discards. Seemingly satisfied with her current flower in her hand she plucked away the red pistil and added it to the much smaller stack in front of her.

"That's the part I don't understand. This place clearly had excellent quality saffron. That's undeniable. However," He picked up another flower from the large mound to his left. "They also sell bottles of this stuff jarred out front. Pre-picked and everything, if the only thing preventing you from purchasing the highest grade is price I am more than willing to buy myself my freedom at this point."

This flower was right out. Its stamens were stunted and weak looking. Without thinking he tossed it into the discard pile.

"You are quite the slow learner aren't you?" She quipped before frowning and discarding hers as well. "Look at your pile, how many perfectly okay flowers have you tossed."

"Excuse you. I am taking only the best. Pardon me for not settling on poor quality goods." Finally he got a decent one. Everything was proportionate, present, and in the right position. But as he looked closer he could see the color was just a bit... Off. Holding it up to a previously selected specimen he confirmed and tossed it.

"That's precisely it. When you are picking it for yourself you can demand the highest of standards. When you are purchasing it, you are the mercy of whoever is doing the gathering."

"Surely if you pay the money for a high enough quality good you get the same thing. My time is valuable, I don't have the ability to go flower picking every weekend." No, on this one too. It's stem is too long.

"You should make time." She remarked squinting at hers before tossing it as well. "Money cannot buy everything. Even if you buy from the best and most reliable merchant they could lie to you. Even if they did not, who is really to say that the poorly paid witch, wizard, or servant knows or cares about the difference between an SS and S grade? If the desired part looks fine, why even glance at the rest."

Draco pulled a good one and after a few moments of scrutiny he plucked the red ribbons for his pile. He was somewhat delighted to see it slightly larger than Hermione's even while maintaining the highest expectations of his flowers. He would give her no reason to lord over him.

"Mass produced products are for the masses. I only ever buy from private specialized growers who only serve very few and run their operations alone."

"That's even worse." She responded holding a very off color blossom up to the light before grimacing and dumping it as well. "They have a motivation to cut the product with something subpar and increase profit. 1 gram of premium powdered unicorn horn will run you 50 galleons. If they can sub a portion of it out for a lower but still effective product, say hoof for example, could you honestly say that you would notice a difference for under a tenth of a gram. Having rich clients only makes it worse, as they are less likely to question the cost and ensure their money is getting the most value they can."

"I have been using the same source for my private collection for years. My family has been using them for generations. I highly doubt they would consider cheating us."

"Exactly what makes it so easy. You have gotten complacent. You think you are above deception and as such you don't bother to look for it. It is then when they will cheat you." She stretched her arms over her head and leaned back to staring into the fields. Suli had left them to go dig for some sort of root on the other side of the farm. Meanwhile a small army of women wrapped in robes, paced the rows of tiny saffron flowers, picking the acceptable blossoms with a delicate hand. Even stranger to him they didn't use magic of any kind except to levitate the baskets full of flowers behind them. Something about tradition and ensuring proper growth.

"If anyone were to ever try to cheat me they know, once caught, they'd be ruined." He scoffed at the very idea. Once a Malfoy condemns you, no one of the upper cusp would ever touch you again.

"Oh sure they would be. Except as you have stated they are highly selective and cater to few clients. I am sure all of your boys club would tsk their tongues and shake their heads with you. A few may even agree that they always knew the man was a husker. However, as soon as they can slip away they'll whisper to their wives that there is a position available. They'll tell themselves you were lying or stupid and will just carefully watch their own composition as well until they grow complacent and they cycle starts all over again."

"Oh, and you really think multiple wizards wouldn't know when they were being cheated?" The selection pile was dwindling and his usually pale fingers were dyed a bright orange. At some point in the afternoon Hermione had scratched her nose leaving a behind a streak of color that made him snicker every time he looked at it.

"Well that's the trick. For most potions the differences between a perfect grade and a near-perfect grade are indistinguishable in the bottle." Plucking a pistil she held it up to his face, hiding the flower in her fist. "How are you to tell by a single pistil that the source plant had a crushed petal or weedy stem? You simply wouldn't know except in the highest level of potions. The kind of potions that are expected to fail and thus when they do there could be hundreds of factors as to why."

His vision blurred as his focus adjusted to the detail. He hated to admit it but she had a point. He was going to need to pay a few visits at the end of the day.

"Fair enough." He shot glancing at her reddened cheeks. "However, you fail to account for the value of the time spent picking flowers. Depending on the wizard and use for the potion it may not be worth it for the slight quality difference."

"I suppose I can concede that." She responded haughtily. "However, not all wizards think that their time is golden. Perhaps you should reevaluate your opinion of yourself."

"Perhaps you should reevaluate your basic awareness. Your cheeks are burning." He was rewarded as her hand shot up to her face, grazing her high cheekbones. She winced in pain and much to his amusement she left another bright orange stain behind.

"Oh great. I am never outside long enough to remember that." With a sigh she cast a shading charm to prevent further damage. Draco knew a spell that would easily remove the burn, not that he was sharing.

"Some teacher you are. I bet if you were left to your own devices out here you could work until you got heatstroke and keeled over where you sit."

"Some student you are, I bet you would have walked straight into that store and bought the most expensive bottle without asking questions."

"I ask questions about everything for your information. While you were slobbering over every mineral in the gem shop I was the one asking questions about sourcing and certifications."

"I was not slobbering." She spat. After a moment's pause she contniued. "Was that the one with the fossils or the one with the giant stuffed bat on the ceiling?"

"Uh," He thought back, trying to recall a stuffed bat or fossils. "The one with really nice gypsum."

"Oh. That was really nice gypsum though." They settled into a silence, picking away at the dwindling pile.

"So have you figured out what you were doing that resulted in your lovely lace glove?" He asked, feeling awkward about the silence not born of anger.

"Pardon you," She responded, tossing a flower at his face. It bopped him on the nose before falling off the table. He supposed it was better than a rock. "I was sitting at my work bench chopping some flobberworms. What did you do? I figured after you got your Cure-All I would be rid of you."

"I didn't do anything." He shot back with a flower of his own. The wind caught his projectile and blew it upwards to get lost in her rat's nest.

"Well clearly you were doing something. And if you don't want to be randomly pulled out of a meeting because you are literally killing me I suggest that we figure out what it was. Or you can just tell me 'what you need' and we can go back to pretending the other doesn't exist."

"You'll just withhold it from me forcing me to suffer for the year." He growled. He had been lucky up to this point honestly. The only one to see him disappear had been Pinky who was no doubt working herself into a panic back home. "But if you keep planning to drag me around, no more random teleportation. I need some sort of warning beforehand. At least five minutes."

"Deal. If you keep the portkey on you I will cast it to shake once at 5 minutes and three times at 1 minute. Barring any dire circumstances."

"What do you consider dire?" He asked with an eyebrow raised. He certainly was unwilling to be beckoned like a dog to carry in the wash.

"Trust me, if it's something that forces me to interact with you, it must be pretty dire." She said with a chuckle.

"Fine. Let's see, when and how did it start?"

"Hm, Saturday. A very little bit on Friday, more like an occasional itch. I felt the same when I had to call you back for our lovely safari."

"Oh well then is it not obvious? It's a time clock." He responded picking one of the few remaining flowers. They had been at this for a couple hours and had collectively amassed about a teacups worth.

"I thought that too, however I would guess that our time clock is closer to four days. It really was a very manageable and steady pain until mid morning Saturday. It suddenly spiked for about ten minutes before it practically disappeared again. What were you doing then?"

Not wanting to go too into too much detail he settled on a technical truth. "Blaise and Theo were over."

She froze. "You told them."

"Of course I didn't" He spat. "You think I would want them to know about this mess? We had breakfast then went to play quidditch."

"What about later that night?" She questioned with at least the decency to look a bit sheepish.

"I had dropped Theo and Blaise off at a healer." He saw her face school into one of concern. He rolled his eyes at her pathetic empathy. "They're fine. Blaise just hurt his arm while playing. I told him not to push it."

"But no one ever listens to you?" She offered with a grin. It was his turn to look sheepish as he cleared his throat.

"In any event, afterwards I went home and worked in my study late into the night."

"What were you looking for?"

"Magical creatures that dissolve bone."

"Lovely."

"You asked. Did it hurt then?"

"Yes. It was starting to get worrisome at that point as it had been hours. Right before one in the morning I passed out."

"Jesus Granger. You waited to pass out before sending your stupid stick to find me?"

"I was a bit wrapped up in insufferable pain at the time." She shot back. "When I woke up it was back to a dull roar. I sent it out to find you just in case. When it started again around 9 it lasted until you landed in my living room."

"Nine? I was reading up on one of the creatures I was looking at the previous night."

"Why were you looking up bone related creatures? That's hardly leisure reading."

"Oh I had some questions about bone related ingredients."

"Well that's quite vague." She supplied grabbing the last flower and plucking the pistil.

"Take a hint." Maneuvering his legs out from underneath the table he laid back in an effort to return function to his spine.

"I can't help you if you don't let me Malfoy. I don't want us to hate each other for the next year." There was some shifting on the other side of the table and when Draco looked over she was laying as well staring up at the clouds.

"But you do. And I hate you."

"Fine." She scowled but continued to to stare at the sky. "Then at least share with me so we can try to find a way out of this sooner. Self preservation and all that."

"Fine." He said, trying to buy time. He needed to think of a way to word it without letting her know too much about what he was after. Lord knows if she found out she would keep the answer from him until he died of old age. "I was curious about your Cure-All."

"I can get you the recipe if it means I get to keep my hand." She chuckled

"No no that wasn't it. I was wondering if there was anything it didn't cure. How much potential did it have?" He stated trying to be as leading as possible.

"What do you mean?"

"Well for example, could it cure burning bones in older wizards? Or something like season allergies? Or even a mental damage from a botched imperius curse?"

"It really isn't feasible to market." She snickered out. "Even lightning storms aside, the rest of the ingredients are rare and very few are available. "

"I wasn't thinking about marketing it." He answered honestly. "I was just curious."

She mused in silence for a minute as Draco watched the clouds drift by. It had been a long time since he had kicked back to watch them. Maybe not since he was… nine? Ten? Certainly not since he left for school.

"So it didn't work." She responded, far to observant for his taste.

"I have no idea what you are babbling about Granger." He responded with indifference. She chuckled and continued to muse.

"Well following the standard logic of Cure-All I don't think seasonal allergies are out of the question. Maybe not the imperius damage either."

"Would you like to expand on that?"

"Shut up. I'm thinking." She was silent for a few moments again. "Seasonal allergies occur because something in your immune system is broken and recognizes pollen as a danger to yourself. The Cure-All could in theory change your immune system to adjust for the pollen allowing your body to stop attacking it."

Draco just kept his mouth shut. He didn't particularly care about the inner workings of allergies.

"I think for the imperius curse it depends. I am not sure how it affects the brain. It could likely be fixed if part of the brain was physically damaged or maybe even if there was a chemical imbalance. I couldn't say for sure though, I am not actually sure how the curse works on the anatomical level. I have had minimal but limited success with some mental curses." Draco cocked a half smile. That sounded a lot like a maybe to him.

"Arthritis, oh sorry, burning bones, I think is just straight out. The problem on that level is inflammation due to years of joint use and wear. Cure-All can't make something from nothing so it can't just restore the joint to what it used to be but it may take the pain away for a while. At least until it was aggravated again."

"What about repairing an old wound?" He ventured.

"What like an amputation? Certainly not for the same reason."

"More like a scar?"

"Vanity Malfoy? I heard women love scars." She chuckled to herself. "No. I know for a fact that any new wound you may have would certainly heal without a scar. Even something a few days old wouldn't be out of the question. However something older... No. There is nothing objectively wrong with scar tissues from the body's standpoint. It is still living tissue that works, it just doesn't look as nice as we would like it to."

"Dragon's balls." Draco muttered to himself. Blaise's arm certainly fell under the category of already healed.

"Why, did you have an old scar you were hoping it would clear up? If so I may have a potion to at least make it fade. If you wanted." She stumbled somewhat awkwardly over the offer. Draco had to force himself not to insult her as she was being quite helpful at the moment.

"Ah… no thank you. I was just curious is all. It had been bugging me all weekend." He jumped as Hermione bolted upright.

"That's it!" She said practically launching over the table to shake him. "You had questions! That's why the oath was burning me. It is my job as a teacher to answer questions!"

"Calm down Granger before you give yourself a fainting spell." He sat up himself, brushing out his tunic. "Okay questions, fine. So I can just ask you questions and we're good?"

"Seems fine to me. We'll give it a go." She nodded her head in conformation before combining the two piles of saved saffron. He preened over the fact that his was still slightly larger, though she didn't seem to notice. "I'll get this squared away and you think of any more you may have."

"Whatever." He watched her stand and stride off to the house near the entrance before pausing and turning to him.

"You should always feel free to ask me any questions about this stuff Draco. It must have been worrying you terribly." She shot an awkward smiled smile toward him.

"Yeah, well at least I don't look like a ripe radish." He scowled, wondering why he couldn't just leave things nice.

"Don't you worry your empty little head. I have something at home that will fix it." Before she walked off he couldn't help but clear his throat as he stood pulling out his wand.

"You look ridiculous and I refuse to be seen with you like that. I have a charm that will fix it. Come here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Details Details-  
> With potions being so precise it only makes sense that the smallest difference in ingredients can effect the outcome drastically. We see this frequently in HBP. It only makes sense that two Master Potioneer's would know this considering their skill is set to the highest standard.
> 
> Curiosity Killed the Hermione-  
> As a teacher it is her job to answer questions and actually teach. She doesn't get a free slave to do as she wills. Sorry shippers. I will be keeping this plot point more centered on her having to choose not to answer question before the vow activates. Not that she can't or doesn't know. This is only so dramatic this time because he was directly questioning her in his mind with zero way to contact her or he would have asked. As demonstrated.
> 
> Restoration Charm-  
> Similar to Episkey it heals minor blemishes like acne and sunburns through a very very deep cleaning that sheds the top layer of skin painlessly. It is a must know for any wizard concerned with their appearance. Of course use it too much and you end up with magical acne. Much worse than the regular kind, so yes. You still get zits even as a witch. Sorry.


	11. A Dosed Cup

"I still don't know why she felt that was necessary," Draco stated as he swept from the floo into her living room. Ash billowed out behind him, causing a rather unnecessary mess.

"It was a kiss on the cheek, Draco. She didn't try to marry you. Besides she had been hanging off your arm all day, I neglected to see how a hug is any more offensive."

"That's a formality. Totally different."

"Well before you stomp off to go pout, let's have a cup of tea and a discussion."

She climbed out with less grandeur but also significantly less mess. She waved her wand in a lazy motion as the well practiced magic of many years jumped into action. At this point, she wasn't sure it even used her actual magic anymore or if it just started as a habit.

"I don't pout. I'll just have a coffee when I get home," he grumbled and rubbed his temples. "I need to prepare for tomorrow."

Hermione rolled her eyes and strode past her sitting area and off to the left. Her old oak work table always served as an anchor to her. It was a gift from Professor McGonagall for graduation and it went with her everywhere as she bounced around the globe. It had been settled for a few years in the current workshop and made the place feel like home. She vanished the beakers and decanters that were scattered all over the surface. She considered leaving the cutting board for snacks but still didn't trust Malfoy not to stab her with a cheese knife and decided to forgo it all together.

Normally she took her tea in the oversized plush armchair facing the floo with a solid book on her lap and Crookshanks lounging on the arm. However, seeing as this was a business meeting it seemed more formal to serve it on her worktable. Conjuring up a chair opposite her, she settled into her own as a old chipped teapot and cup came whizzing in from the library. The tea cup and saucer settled itself in front of her after a short stint of floating over the middle of the table unsure of where to go. She conjured up another cup and saucer for Malfoy and some cream and sugar as well. The bubbling pot filled her cup to the brim, steam billowing up to her nose.

"It's the coffee that gives you headaches. All well and good as an emergency measure but hardly manageable long term. When was the last time you had a good cup of English Black?" Seeing her cup filled the pot moved on to Draco's and then zipped away.

"Your cups don't match," he grumbled before walking over and pulling out his chair.

"Why must you be so insufferable?"

She finished taking a long sip from her favorite blend. It was strange how normal it felt to be drinking tea with an old enemy turned… whatever he was now. She hesitated to say neutral but he wasn't quite an adversary and she respected his skill too much to consider him a puppet.

"Let's discuss contact, unless you want to just be randomly pulled out of board meetings all the time because you had a question about my favorite color of posies."

"Godric be damned, woman. Just send an owl."

As he settled he blew on his tea before letting the steam drift upwards and inhaling. His face relaxed and he closed his eyes, enjoying the scent. As he should, she grew her tea herself and made a point to spell in some calming effects during harvesting. Nothing to major, just a bit to loosen his guard. After a moment he focused on her again.

"Would it really be that sensitive?"

"No idea. An owl would take too long though. You have been on the receiving end of this thing. Aren't you well aware of how immediate the effects are? If the owl could even get out of the wards in one piece."

"That seems like a you problem. The tea is quite nice." He offered after his first sip. She could visibly see his body relax a bit as his shoulders released their tension and his jaw unclenched.

"Thank you. However it is also a _you_ problem considering you can't come here without me pulling you. So if I am doing something that results in your hand falling off perhaps you should have a way to contact me."

"I would rather not have any evidence of our arrangement lying around. If you just gave me your floo address we could fire speak or I could come here." He glanced at the cauldron to his right. It was bubbling away with a batch of sleeping draught for one of her stores. She was thankful she didn't have anything more unpleasant currently working.

"I still don't trust you. One skin restoration charm doesn't erase years of abuse. Where did you learn such a good one anyway?" she ventured as he actually began to slouch in his chair. Her tea wasn't quite as effective as veritasium but it was also not as noticeable.

"Hm, oh my mother taught it to me. Fair skin and pale hair you know," he responded lazily while fighting off a yawn. She noticed the dark rings under his eyes for the first time. They stood stark against his otherwise pale skin. He should be sleeping more. "Two-way mirror then?"

"Can you keep one on you at all times?" she countered.

"Hm, probably not. I'm vain but not that vain. I am out of ideas."

He watched her from across the table. His calculating gaze held none of the usual malice it normally did thanks to the tea. He was just looking at her how one would look at any other witch or wizard of their peerage.

"I'll think on it."

She was hesitant to end the almost mundane conversation. She loved her friends in far off places but it wasn't the same as hosting a simple cup of tea in your home with someone. She could never compromise their safety so she had always just sequestered herself, though visitors did make her self conscious of her dusting practices.

"Hey Granger," Malfoy said from across the table as he finished his cup. "Not that traveling the world with you isn't thrilling. I can't help but wonder why you don't just take one of the golden boys with you. I mean maybe Potter may be caught up in Ministry business but surely he could take a day off. If not, why not Weasley? With your skill, you could charm his mouth shut before he gets too annoying."

"They're much too busy," she responded quickly as she charmed his empty cup away. "I'll think about our communication problem tonight."

"You aren't even that far away. I mean, what's your plan if they pop in for a visit and I am here? Tell them were having a sordid love affair and hope they drop dead of a heart attack?" He paused for a moment before squinting his eyes. "Wait you didn't actually marry one of those clods did you?"

"No Malfoy. I am not married, certainly not to them." She was growing more irritable and wondered why she felt the need to serve tea.

"Pity. In spite of your terrible blood you have excellent genes. They should be passed on you know. Ideally to a nice strong line, not pure of course. Couldn't have that." It was amazing how casual the medieval logic coming out of his mouth was.

"I am not a fine hunting dog. I have no interest in breeding. Perhaps you should leave." She stood up swiftly, barely giving him time to stand before charming his chair away. "Expect a call Thursday."

"Well what's got you in such a twist? Fine, fine. I'll go. Thanks for the tea." He sauntered over to the floo before grabbing a handful of floo powder. "Malfoy Flat"

In a flash of fire he was gone. She chastised herself for drugging him. It was a well known effect that using magic to loosen someone's tongue almost always ended with something you didn't want to hear. However, that didn't make it hurt any less.

0000000000000000000

Draco slept amazingly that night. He had intended to get some prep-work for the week done however the combination of the sun and exercise nearly knocked him out after arriving home. Instead he took a quick shower to wash off the dust and fell into bed. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

He kept himself busy the rest of the week putting in procedures that allowed him to disappear at a moment's notice. He didn't seem to have a lot to say in the matter so he made a conscious effort to avoid as much of a mess as possible when he got back. He was just signing a few generic letters to be delivered by owl for any canceled meetings when Blaise walked in.

"Planning a vacation?" he asked, adjusting the pale blue cuff of his sleeve poking out from just underneath a finely tailored suit jacket. While operating in the office they both preferred to ditch the baggy robes for functionality.

"We just had one." Draco responded as the last piece of parchment flew out from under his quill and onto the top of the stack next to him.

"A vacation from me perhaps?" Blaise suggested before settling down into one of the chairs that drifted up from a corner of the room. Draco liked keeping them to the side, that way he could force people to stand if he wanted to.

"I always need a vacation from you. But no."

He leaned back in his chair rubbing his temples. He was about to call for coffee when a hot cup came sailing through the door and switched places with the letters. Drizella was so good at her job.

"Would you like to tell me why I am here then?" Blaise questioned boredly while adjusting his lapel. Draco wanted to make fun of him for it but they were far past that point. As the head of magical relations for Black and Black, he had to look every bit the personable gentleman at all times. They may have never made it off the ground if it weren't for his charm and fashion sense.

"I need you to look into something for me." Draco sipped his black coffee grimacing at the taste. He hadn't realized how flavored it was compared to tea until earlier this week. He knew he shouldn't have accepted the cup from Granger. It was spoiling his tolerance.

"What do you need, boss?" Bliase drawled from the chair.

Draco happened to like both Blaise and Theo in spite of their skills. The fact that they were so useful just hastened their friendship. And Blaise, Blaise was good about finding things. For all his work as a pretty figurehead, he was a much better manipulator. He was the one who came up with the company name, suggesting Draco use his mother's maiden title. At first Draco was offended until thinking about the connotations the Malfoy name may have attached to it. It probably wouldn't help sales if it were plastered on all the bottles.

More than that, he was a vital hand on the pulse of the social circles of London. Sure ,Draco was still invited to the various galas and benefits around the city but he didn't bother going. Blaise however attended each and every one, along with the questionable after parties. He was good at seeing which actions gave the most social capital and which people could give them most information for the least amount of effort. He was much like his mother in that way. Thus why Draco had called him here today.

"What do you know about Hermione Granger?" he asked nonchalantly. He had hoped to avoid letting even this much slip to his closest friends but something about her general behavior seemed off. There was an air of… reclusiveness to her. She was hiding something and he was determined to discover what.

"The muggle swot?" Blaise questioned with one perfect eyebrow raised. "From the golden gang of heroes? I dunno, I haven't heard anything about her in ages. Why?"

"I've heard whispers lately about a mysterious potion brewing witch. I have my suspicions." 

"She was always better than you at potions." He responded helpfully.

"Oh shut it. Do you know what circles she runs in? What area does she live in? What kind of capital we are working around?" 

"Circles, no idea. Probably the old Order gang still, or whatever is left of them. I see no reason why she wouldn't be. Although I don't think I have seen her at any of the Ministry gatherings, not that that means much. Many of the more... poorly-mannered wives avoid society like the plague." Blaise mused crossing his arms behind his head. "Now that you mention it, I don't think I have seen her since…. Graduation I think in 99'. Maybe she moved to the continent?"

"Why would she do that?" Draco was fairly certain her workshop was still somewhere in London.

"Hiding I suppose if she had done something embarrassing. Potions go wrong all the time. She could have a mushroom growing out of her head." He offered with a shrug before standing. "I'll do some looking into it. I imagine you want this discreet?"

"Please." Draco responded, waving away his friend's chair. "Let me know what you find out."

"Will do. The Snakes Shed this Friday?"

"If we must." Draco responded to the invite. Zabini flashed his award winning smile before gliding out the door. Both of Draco's assistant's gazed after him..

"Marie. I need those promotional materials for the new hair growth tonic." It was Wednesday and if Granger was right he was expecting a rude beckoning some time tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Calming Tea-  
> The effect is not quite as strong as alcohol but a but more effective than THC. It serves to just relax a person, making it more likely they will let something slip they normal wouldn't have. It is still a very gray situation particularly because it hard to identify when you are drinking it or to remember you felt different afterwards. The teat is made by chanting a calming spell over freshly budding tea plants prior to the leaves unfolding. Works best in conjunction with other sleepy/ calming teas. Chamomile, lavender ect
> 
> Zabini-  
> So Blaise runs PR. I am aware this is kind of what he does in every fic but its a good job for a sytherin and a very good job for an attractive person. I also doubt that the Molfoy's could have rebounded from the war without some serious good will donations, pretty faces, and heavy PR.


	12. A Forgotten Enemy

Hermione was taking inventory of her huge catalog of stock where her wrist twinged again. She really hated being wrong in general but she would have made an exception this time. Unfortunately it seemed that she would be subjected to Malfoy roughly every few days. She could hold off until tomorrow but after that it seemed the random twitching wouldn't let her get any work finished.

She had been putting off actually planning a lesson for as long as possible but now she supposed she had no choice. She waved her hand in the general direct of the library, pulling a selection of her textbooks from Hogwarts.

While insufferable, Malfoy was certainly not stupid. She knew he was a somewhat skilled wizard and a very accomplished potioneer so she would not be getting away with a simple 'turn to page 394 and make me a potion.'

After flicking through all the potions books she moved on to herbology. While never a great love of hers it was certainly an end to a means. She opened the seventh year edition combing it's table of contents. A small paragraph preceded the guide acting as a forward. It was not lengthy, as the herbologist were a very salt of the earth sort of people and never had much time for flowery words and dedications.

_While this book may serve as a guide to successfully passing your NEWT level exams it is important to view this information as vital to the discipline of herbology. First and foremost before any other method of care, the maintenance and growth of a plant determines its quality and thus its usefulness. As such, prior to beginning this book determine what is required for your own maintenance and partake of it before becoming more useless than a male Mandrake. Thank you._

She smiled and the plan began to come together.

000000000000

When Thursday rolled around Draco didn't even bother to get ready for work. While he wasn't sure when he would be fetched he knew it would be soon. His own wrist was tingling in a disconcerting way.

Instead he slept in until 7:00 am and lounged in bed after waking. He was slow to get up, figuring if Granger was faced with a smelly and messy Draco then she deserved it. Eventually his pride forced him to shower and dress in a pair of functional black robes with a silk sapphire lining that peaked out from the interior of the hanging sleeves. He kept an eye on the wooden portkey that he, once again, found spelled to the pocket of any piece of clothing he wore. He had to admit it was a fine little charm, very detailed and effective. When tampered with, the magic allowed itself to be seen but the sharp shock sent up his wand quickly warned him not to bother trying to mess with it.

By 8:00 he was dressed and lounging in the living room, nibbling on a scone. Pinky appeared with a plate and kettle of coffee just a few minutes prior. This was the reason Draco had a house elf. No one to question why he wasn't at work. No one to force small talk with. Just breakfast served and then POOF gone.

Reaching for the coffee he paused. The earthy smell was harsh and promised a quick jolt of caffeine that his head was already warning him he was going to need. Wistfully he thought of the perfect cup of tea he had been served at Granger's workshop a few days ago. It was wonderfully made for a black. But honestly, he had always preferred Earl Gray.

 _If I have to sit out work I am going to enjoy myself._ He thought as he stared at the black coffee steaming out of the spout in front of him.

"Pinky." He called out. He waited no more than 3 seconds before the house elf appeared next to his breakfast tray. "Does the Master request a different meal?"

"A pot of Earl Gray please. And the Daily Prophet." With another crack she was momentarily gone, the pot of coffee with her. Approximately one minute later a copy of the paper and a fine china tea pot appeared next to him.

He had just poured his second cup when he felt the wooden shard in his pocket buzz three times. It was so subtle he had almost missed it. He must have missed the first one. Groaning he glanced up at the clock and grabbed his wand from the table next to him. With one last sip of the cup he felt the familiar pull of a portkey.

He landed on his feet gracefully this time. He was no stranger at traveling by portkey for business and was quite adept at it when he was prepared for it. He took an experimental glance around the workroom. Off to his right, massive floor to ceiling arched windows let in the weak, gray light. Another day of rain seemed to be in the forecast. One had a small nook filled with blankets, pillows, and a messy pile of books.

_Likely where that swot reads._

His tea cup was still steaming in his hand and he sipped it while continuing to look around. An odd collection of mismatched furniture was directly in front of the floo, his designated landing spot. One armchair and two couches. His memories of lying on the overstuffed pieces were comfortable but it did nothing to save them from the horrid paisley pattern stitched into the backings.

Behind them stood a wall with floor to ceiling drawers clacking in and out. Small components withdrew themselves and drifted over to the cauldron off the workbench to his direct left. Generally, lazy magic was a great way to kill someone while making potions, however the sweet scent of bezor wafted over. A simple potion like and 'antidote to common poisons' was a first year level potion and thus hardly a concern.

There was a second fireplace behind the workbench (this one much too small for flooing) along the wall. The notch in the floor plan extended much further back and past the clacking shelves. He wandered over to get a better look at the dark cranny. The light from the windows and fires were dim and he could barely see.

Slowly his eyes adjusted and he leaned back on the sturdy wooden work table as he admired a fairly vast library for the space. Every inch of wall was lined with bookcases. The shelves were meticulously stacked and organized, by subject if the nearest titles were to be trusted. He dodged a newts tail as it flew by into the cauldron in front of him.

Above all the books a small round window filtered in the slightest amount of light into a disheveled lofted area in the rafters. While he couldn't see everything from his angle he could make out a pile of blankets that likely made up a bed and a large orange cat snoozing on the stack. But no painfully annoying witch to be found.

 _Odd._ He thought to himself as he continued to glance around. He was personally, very private about his workshop and she was concerned he was going to burn it down. It seems so unlike any apothecary to just leave their workshop unattended with a stranger inside of it.

S _he is so naïve she probably thinks we're friends now._

He rolled his eyes and continued to sip his tea. Above him the cat stretched out leaped lightly off the bed and onto a bookshelf that appeared to contain information on… Dragons? It was impossible to tell for sure in the light.

Another few deft leaps and the cat was sauntering up to him. It sniffed at his foot experimentally before looking up at his face. It's deep green eyes were oddly intelligent.

"Hello you old slipper. Where is your git of an owner?" The cat stared at him for just another moment before seemingly deciding he was a perfect scratching post. It weaved in and out of his legs covering his black slacks with fur.

"Stop that… what was your name? Cookshank? Stop it Cookshank. You are getting fur all over pants that cost more than your lifetime's worth of food." The cat merely leapt on the table beside him pushing against his hand and nearly spilling the remainder of his tea.

"Fine if I pet you will you stop it!" he asked somewhat exasperated to be talking to a cat. However, the cat meowed and _did_ sit back on its haunches, so at least it seemed to be working. He begrudgingly reached out to scratch the animal behind its ears. He was rewarded with a strong purr before the flash of a fireplace lit up the workshop.

"His name is Crookshanks and you are lucky. He doesn't usually let people touch him." Hermione drifted out of the floo, a few packets in hand. She waved her hand and sent them over to the clacking drawers to find, what he presumed to be, their new home.

"I didn't know you could do wandless magic. That is exceptionally impressive for someone of your breeding." Draco offered, not letting his hand drop. The cat had rolled on its stomach and he reached in to scratch it.

"Clearly, he is a terrible judge of character. Besides," Draco swiftly pulled his hand back from the near miss of a bite as the cat flipped onto its back hissing. "He doesn't like people who are mean to me."

The cat leapt off the table and strutted over to a window settling in the weak sunlight. Draco cursed under his breath at the petty animal.

"Well then he will continue to hate me. Can we get whatever we are doing today over with?" 

Granger already had her cloak on and he assumed they were ready to go.

"Yes, I've already arranged everything. Now, if you please." She gestured toward the fireplace. He begrudgingly stepped into it, ash coating his leather shoes.

"You should get a maid to clean up this wreck you call a workshop."

"You should get a better attitude to function in society." She responded by stepping in herself. ___"___ Fermes au Clair de Lune."

When the bright green flames cleared from Draco's sight he was forced to throw up his arm as an arresting amount of sunlight burned against his retinas. It was not very often one stepped out a Floo and ended up anywhere but someone's parlor.

As his vision adjusted he dropped his coverage and took in his new surroundings. He and Granger had landed on a slightly raised hill encompassed by a staggering amount of wild flowers. The gentle blue of delphinium was interspersed with a calming lavender of dangerous foxglove and goldenrod. A bright blue sky speckled with clouds stretched seamlessly over them in an endless expanse. It was quite a change from the city and Draco was just happy not to be bakingly hot like the last two times.

"Come now, we're already late," she chastised before setting off down a very lightly worn path. The dark robes he had mistaken for black had been revealed to be a rich navy and brushed along the grass at her feet. Her arms reached out and the sleeves of her robes softly tickled against the taller plants. Draco decided the location was a much more amicable change from what he had seen so far and allowed himself enjoy it.

They set off from the stand alone brick oven they had exited through. It's gently glowing coals immediately extinguished behind them and blocking off the pathway back. It was mildly concerning to Draco but it was hard to remain on edge when surrounded by the picturesque views. He began to understand why so many of the upper class still had country homes.

As they walked down the hill Hermione began to hum. It was a tune composed of single notes in varying scales but fairly deep for a woman's voice. It was somewhat childish but also a bit shadowy. He hardly knew much about music but could safely say Granger was tone deaf. However, it did pass muster for whatever magic guarded the place. All around him the grasses shimmered in the wind echoing the tune back in a powerful and building crescendo.

Suddenly the songs cut and at the bottom of the hill a small cottage shimmered into being. Chickens pecked the ground randomly and a large white wolf-like dog was laying at the door. It raised it's head to regard them before lazily tucking back into its tail.

"What a grand piece of magic," Draco commented sincerely. Charms involving any of the arts or nature were notoriously tricky considering how fluid they could be. To combine them must have taken many years of intense work. All as a simple illusion charm. It hardly seemed worth it to him, but then again older wizards did tend to have an overabundance of time to figure these things out.

"It's positively beautiful isn't it," Hermione agreed as she continued their bound down the path. They were quickly creeping up on an old stone wall covered in greenery. Draco could barely make out a gate under a mass of honeysuckle.

"It is, but it seems like a secret keeper would just work better. What happens if you go off pitch?" he asked as Granger waved away the bees swarming over the flowers. She gently unlocked the gate, swinging it free.

"I don't know. Some things are better not asked," she responded as she held the gate open with a sort of half smile. She had been at least half as hindering to him today as usual so he didn't bother with a barb of any kind, just stalked into the yard.

The dog, finally finding the need to stir, stood up to throw an aggressive bellowing bark as Granger blew past him fearlessly. While it was far away it didn't look half as intimidating however up close the thing was massive and much closer to wolf than dog. It's pure white coat was long and bunched at the chest with shining white teeth that hit right at Draco's hip. It dropped its head and growled, its shoulders shifted menacingly and it's crooked tail hung low.

Draco slowly shifted the catch that hid his wand in his sleeve, unsure if the animal or Granger was going to back down first. It was neither.

"Oh you misty eyed thing. You know her, let them in." The voice preceded the young witch who drifted out of the cabin. Her voice was airy and dotty, like a sentence half finished. Her long teal sundress may have been fetching if it weren't for the haphazardly sewn in bunches of long pink feathers. He stared at her round face and soft but distant blue eyes. It was all framed with a golden blonde head of hair that seemed familiar to him.

"Draco Malfoy? My, I didn't think she was serious." Her out hand jutted out from the dogs collar. It was only due to years of practice that he actually grasped it. "I think we're cousins too. On the Rosier side? But then again it's so hard to keep track of those things."

"Lovely to meet you?" Draco offered, unsure of what else to say. She had not given him her name so it was quite a bit less than a meeting. He tried to hide his irritation at Granger giggling into her hand.

"Oh no we've met," she stated, nodding her head vigorously. Her long hair fell around her face. "We went to Hogwarts together. Or well we did, until that nasty bit a business with you-know-who. You caused a lot of trouble, did you know that?"

"I am aware," he growled, suddenly less forgiving of her dottiness. "I hardly remember every pathetic witch that attended that school."

"Oh I see the Temperflints still afflict you. How sad. I think we have some spray for that. It's made of wrigglyhide, would you like some?" she added with a smile. His brain tried to make sense of the words before finally coming up with a name.

"Loony Lovegood?!" He turned to Hermione who was now fully in stitches and nearly falling over. "You brought me to Loony Lovegood's house?"

"I have a name. You should know it, considering I was locked in your basement for a while," Loony stated. The dog, which had returned to a sleepy porch ornament at her earlier touch began to growl.

"Right. Sorry. Old habits…" There was and awkward silence. Draco was clearly not getting an actual introduction. "What was your name again?"

"Luna. Luna Lovegood." She responded immediately back at ease.

"Wait a moment." The general fashion she spoke in reminded him of an incredibly difficult to read text book that contained painfully useful information on some of the hardest to find magical creatures needed for potions. "Are you perhaps Luna L of _Soft Things with Sharp Teeth_?"

"Oh yes. I also wrote _Of Willywades and Codswallows_ but they insisted on publishing it as fiction so it may be harder to find." Draco had been trying to get a consultation with the author for years but all points of contact had turned up blank. To think it had been Loony Lovegood the whole time. Apparently Hogwarts had churned out it's best students that year. Or maybe the war had just made them the best. It seemed like too charged of an issue to think about now.

"So uh, I suppose you made that musical charm that hides the house. It's quite...good." Though it pained him to admit.

"Hmmmm, oh no. That was the whisperwillows. They're quite protective of us," she responded. Granger had finally stopped giggling which was a blessing. The sound was highly disconcerting.

"What happens if you mess up the song?"

"I've made a point not to ask." 

"That's concerning."

"Oh no, not at all. Whisperwillows can't hurt you as long as you have a clove of garlic in your pocket."

"Why would I carry around a clove of garlic?" Draco asked perplexed.

"Well, in that case we better get you inside."

Waving her hands she successfully herded Draco inside with Hermione following close behind. The dog regained its post behind them, quickly falling asleep on its stoop.

"What did you two drag in today, dear?" The humored voice came from a room off the main parlor. The cottage was indeed larger inside than out but still held onto the rustic feel of the countryside. Mortar and stone walls were framed with thick hewn wood. Joist criss-crossed above them with so many drying plants and flowers Draco wasn't sure there was actually a ceiling.

"You'll hardly believe it. It's Draco Malfoy!" Lovegood called to the disembodied voice. For a moment Draco wondered if she had a ghost in the house. She was the sort of witch who would likely invite it to tea than have it removed.

"What do you mean Drac-" Draco had to keep his utter shock from showing as Neville Longbottom walked into the room, covered in dirt and grasping a collection of vines. "Oh."

"Well at least you didn't draw you wand on him," Granger commented from a squat wooden chair she had settled in.

Lovegood had prepared some sort of berry mixture, a cocktail he hoped, and was serving it at the table. She subtly indicated for him to sit. After a moment of deliberation he decided to join them without too much snark. There was a lot on the table now and his mother would kill him for disrespecting a pureblood's offer for tea. Even if it was just Lovegood.

"May I ask what this is?" He questioned as he lowered into his chair. It had a fairly cushioned seat and back of red velvet with sturdy carved wooden arms. Honestly, it was surprisingly comfortable and much better than most of the dainty wiry chairs he usually ran into during tea.

"You may." She remained silent and he sighed,

"What is it?"

"It's a berry wine. The natives in America drink it to keep away the moon-eyed people. It's quite good."

She topped off his cup before seating herself. Figuring he had nothing to lose he took a tentative sip. While a bit harsh it was a very lightly sweetened wine and did indeed taste 'quite good'.

"You're never this cordial to me," Granger pouted from her side of the table.

"I am stuck with you. And she is giving me wine," he drawled lazily taking another sip of his drink. For a wine it was quite powerful, if not a bit gritty. He held it up to the light, seeing small glittering pieces of something blink in and out of existence. He decided they were seeds and didn't want to know otherwise.

"So it's true then," Neville spoke up from where he still stood frozen to the left of the fireplace. Snapping into a robotic motion he meticulously banded and hung the vines by the fireplace to dry. "You are her new apprentice?"

"I wouldn't say that," Draco responded glancing at his wine. He had nearly dropped it when he felt a painful sting from his wrist as the vow flared into view.

"I would," Hermione shot with a smile, her own ring of light much less bright and seemingly not painful.

"Hermione, what were you thinking? When you said you were bringing a student by I didn't think you meant him." Neville stomped over and was looming dangerously over Draco. From a more skilled wizard he might have been afraid, but it was Longbottom.

"I don't need you questioning my decision making Longbottom, you aren't my mother."

"Honey, maybe you should-" Luna gestured to the chair but was cut off before she finished.

"And you knew about this didn't you. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was sure she was joking," Luna responded calmly.

"Well she wasn't," the other man pointed out.

There was an awkward silence, before he finally took his seat at the table. It was strange having them all sit together. Or at least have them sit with him, he was the one out of place here.

"As amusing as this all is, would someone like to tell me why I am here? I have better things to do than get drunk on a Thursday." He thought for a moment and decided that in spite of her ditziness Lovegood wasn't so bad. Well that and she was clearly very skilled at some sort of magic. "Although the wine is tasty, you should bottle it."

"Thank you." She responded primly and with a small smile.

"Well, if Neville doesn't strike you down where you sit Malfoy. He was going to be continuing our lesson on the importance of properly sourced ingredients." She flicked her gaze to the wizard in question with a smile. "Although I can't say I would be opposed to that."

"Fine. But I am not guiding you. You're on you own and if he gets eaten, then good riddance," he responded with a grumble.

Longbottom stood and waved the two of them to follow him, pulling out his wand. Draco must have had a look on his face as Hermione pulled him up by the arm and practically hauled him into the darkened room to the left of the fireplace

"Don't say that Neville," Luna replied from behind them. "Humans are notoriously hard on the stomach."

He passed through the door and felt a sizzle of magic that crossed over his skin like a net. His vision wavered for a moment then adapted revealing a massive forest of green. Giant trees and vines strung up into a canopy of thick foliage that blocked out all of the light, barring little patches where a clean glass roof could be seen peeking through. Huge trunks rocketed towards the ground where thick roots knotted into complex patterns of bark and dirt. A small path was worn into the undergrowth with two small crafted rivers on each side feeding nursery plants.

"Keep him in line and he can stay." Neville turned to him with his wand drawn. "And I want to speak to you later. Don't touch anything."

With that he stomped off in a rustling of branches and leaves.

"Alright, let's discuss the importance of root structure. Let's begin with this baobab tree." Before Hermione could launch into a lecture Draco interrupted.

"Why on earth are we at Longbottom's house. Or Luna's. Wait are they married?" Hermione looked affronted he dared to interrupt but after a moment's hesitation decided to humor him.

"Yes. Now as I was saying-"

"And what do you think I can learn from that flunky? He couldn't even make a shrinking potion properly." Clearly giving up on whatever she had hoped would be a lesson plan she sighed and wandered off down the path at a slow pace.

"Neville is the best herbologist in the UK. Maybe even in the entire eastern hemisphere." She pushed through some heavily draping leaves revealing a cliff. Walking forward she rolled her eyes and indicated for him to join her atop the vista.

Much to Malfoy's amazement the greenhouse was massive, so much so he could barely make out the walls of glass to either side. Below them a variety of biomes covered the spanse of the greenhouse floor with various habitats spaced out in a meticulously crafted grid. They were clearly in the rainforest section which he would guess to be the largest. The cliff below him was dotted with a variety of creeping plants, roots carefully tied to the rock to allow them purchase.

The next closet area seemed to be desert, covered in tall, thick green sticks and small spiny bushes. After the desert a thin strip of what looked like snow spread for a short distance before bursting into a massive grassland. Past that he couldn't see much.

"There is no better place on this planet to source ingredients." She responded staring out over the vast treasure trove of potion components. A gust of wind caught her unruly hair, forcing her to push it away and glance at him. "I trust no one else but him."

"How did he… the sheer amount of magic it must have taken."

"Just because someone is not great at hexes does not indicate ineptitude for magic. He and Luna built it together over the course of many years. I am assuming some of Luna's 'friends' helped as well but can't be certain."

"Friends?" Draco asked as he turned back towards the lumbering tropic forest behind him.

"Yes, the assorted magical creatures she runs across. Apparently she takes in some from each trip if they want to come with her. Others just tend to show up." A clutch of leaves to the left shook as a curious green hand pushed the shelter away. Hermione warmly smiled at it and waved.

Taking it as an invitation the bowtruckle popped out and hobbled over to one of the nursery succulents staked on the river path. It appeared to have shifted from its root ball and was submerged a bit too deeply in the water. The bowtruckle examined all angles of the plant before pulling it toward the bank and wedging a rock under it. When the creature let go the rock held the plant upright. Quick as it had come the small magical creature melted back into the wall of green.

"Fascinating. The level of work to maintain the place must be impossible, even with magical creatures helping." He marveled, trying to make out a smudge of clouds past the mountains. "How far back does it go?"

"You're about to find out." Draco drew back his arm as she snatched for his robe. There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other. Granger blushed and cleared her throat. "Pardon me, that was rude. We are apparating through, if you're ready."

"There aren't anti-apparation wards? Seems less than secure." Most wizards of their generation had taken a Mad-Eye Moody approach to wards after the war. Draco didn't feel wholly safe for years, even at home.

"There is a distance limit of a kilometer on it. It's the only way travel through this place is really possible. It does pose a problem for guest, thus the rather scenic arrival."

He thought about refusing to go, just to make her life a bit harder but she would probably take him anyway. He might as well have some warning.

"How many jumps are we making?" He questioned as he held out his arm. A colorful bolt of feathers shot overhead and dipped into the canopy.

"Only 2, it goes about 10 back though. Maybe 4 from east to west. Hold tight, we're landing on a mountian first then a cave." Draco felt the tell-tale twist of his stomach as his vision blurred before snapping back as a gray rock stone shifted under his weight. A quick glance around gave him the impression of a winter before they jumped again.

He only stumbled a bit switching from the angled rocky ground to the hard flat floor of a dark room. It smelled stagnant and felt damp. 

"Lumos rubrum". Granger's wand tip lit with a gentle red light and she dropped his arm. It was dull but enough to make out the cave around them. A surprising amount of muted colors speckled the cave, covering the rocky surfaces like blankets.

"Molds?" he questioned. He, of course, had a few growing in a dark room at Theo's warehouse but they were very common ones, and not nearly as numerous as these.

"And a few slimes. They are quite sensitive to light but I assume you knew that." She walked off to the left, following the bend of the cave. "It's a shame we're heading this way. Further back are the bioluminescent and crystal rooms. They are some of the most wonderous things I have ever seen on this planet."

"You missed your calling as tour guide, Granger. Do they have a little sash for you?" He asked in a less scathing tone than usual. It came out as more of a tease than an insult.

"Oh yes the World of Fungus tour. A most gripping adventure.'' After a short walk more blue light overtook the ambiance and the witch dulled her wand. Up ahead a large expanse of blue stretched across the entrance to the cave. He had figured it was sky until a grindylow swam by with something that looked suspiciously like shears.

"Are we underwater?" He asked, eyeing the evil little demon as it drifted out of view.

"Yes. We are under a stretch of floodplains. He add the tube so he could monitor the roots of the floating plants more easily." She responded as they broke out of the rock. Draco couldn't help but compare the feeling to a bubble charm. The long tube snaked ahead and disappeared into the mist of the water. All around them, just outside of the tube, various aquatic plants grew up from the sandy floor. Huge tree trunks were partially submerged before reaching up past the surface in a blur of dark green and brown. The lack of color indicated it was freshwater, a fact which was bolstered by the Grindylow meticulously pruning a large patch of grass-like gillyweed growing on the bark of trees.

There was a splash into the water, pulling Draco's attention. The bubbles cleared, revealing Lovegood, trussed up in a wetsuit and her blonde hair flowing around her like a net. The Grindylow paused his work and gathered a handful of gillyweed before drifting up to her lazily.

Draco was tempted to call out warning but she had very clearly seen the creature and seemed unconcerned. It swam closer before feeding her the gillyweed. She barely twitched as her lungs morphed into gills and with a few coughs of air she was perfectly changed. The slits on her neck twitched as they began to pull the air out of the water.

After a moment she waved her hand toward the creature who shot forward with glee. To Draco's surprise the nasty creatures known for drowning humans simply drifted around in Luna's long flowing hair. It ran its tentacles through it, gently unweaving any knots it came across. After a few moments it drifted off to continue its landscaping.

Luna waved in greeting swimming up to Hermione and Draco. Her voice was gargled but otherwise transferred through clearly. "They like hair a lot. Terribly misunderstood creatures. They aren't trying to drown you, they just want to play a bit."

With a shrug she swam off into the haze. Draco was unsure of exactly what she intended to do but decided he already had enough to work with as is.

"Alright, so lesson time. Last time we talked about the importance of personal selections. Now, we will take it a step farther. Personal propagation is of the utmost importance. The only surefire way to ensure a quality ingredient is to follow it from it's seed all the way up until it's gathered. According to Madam Mualkins Guide to Kitchen Herbs…"

Draco sighed and let her lecture onwards as they walked. It was going to be a very long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Vow- Time restriction  
> Hermione and Draco must interact. One cannot teach if one does not see their student.
> 
> Time line refresher-  
> About the end of week 2 since the start of the story.
> 
> Family Ties-  
> No this is not special. Almost all the purebloods are related. This has no special bearing on the story really.
> 
> Whisper of the Willows-  
> Whisperwillows are very very VERY slow moving creatures that mimic wildflowers, nestling themselves into fields. If at risk of being trodden upon they will whistle a low tune that will inspire the offender to turn the other way. In groups they can attack at once, blowing out eardrums and causing loss of balance. In rare cases death. It is not known if they are a very dumb animal or a remarkably sentient plant.
> 
> Ward on the Greenhouse-  
> I can't imagine anyone who lived through the rise and fall of old voldy could ever NOT have anti-apparition wards. As such they exist on the field and cottage for miles around so that people are physically forced to walk to the cottage allowing time for escape via emergency methods. These wards must be relaxed to allow for travel in the green house. Because the jumps are very short distances they do not require a ton of magic and can be made simultaneously. As long as one can keep their head about them.


	13. An Old Friend

Malfoy had been remarkably present through her lesson. Throughout the whole day in fact. She was unsure about how both parties were going to handle the outing but it had gone as well as one could hope.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh as the young man leapt from his crouched position behind a rock, swiping up a small fire engine red lizard.

"Got you, you stupid little scaled rat- OW!" The Firebeard Rockleaper jumped out of his hand and scurried into a crevice. She repressed a giggle and walked over to where Draco was nursing his injured hand.

"Haven't you learned anything from that whole Buckbeak ordeal?" She tsked and held out her hand for his. It was currently cradled to his chest, tucked next to his robe. "It's going to catch you on fire if you keep holding it like that."

"Haven't you learned not to be such an insufferable twat." Hermione let the insult roll away. She was starting to pick up when he actually meant them versus when he was just being a clod.

"It's no great loss to me, but Neville says human remains are a pain to clean up." He growled but stuck out his hand anyway. The Firebeard had left the small notch between his thumb and pointer finger smoldering in a perfect little crescent. "It's surprising enough for them to be grabbed, you could stand to be nicer."

"You speak like they can understand you." He hissed as she conjured some clean water on the injury. It quickly boiled away to reveal perfectly intact, if slightly pink, skin. Ultimately harmless, just a bit warm.

"According to Luna, they can. Even if they don't show it."

"You can't possibly believe that can you?" She took the chance to to flip his palm check the other bites that she had already treated. One might figure he would learn from the first six.

"Do you see any on me?" She smiled cheekily as she looked up to meet his eyes. The hike into the red rock canyon had been hard on him. His robe had shifted off his left shoulder and a bit of sapphire fabric peaked out against his collared shirt. The shirt in question was now sporting a reddish brown smudge from where he rubbed his neck. Even his usually perfectly controlled hair was falling along his forehead before he pushed it back.

"If you are so impressive, Granger." He growled, yanking his hand back and crossing his arms. "Stop staring at me and demonstrate. Like a good little _professor_."

The title was dripping with sarcasm, but she didn't mind. It brought back fond memories of Ron doing the same thing after begging for help with his homework during their first year. Such a long time ago.

"Alright then. Watch."

She stalked forward silently, spying another small reptile sunning itself on a rock. They were after the shed skin of the creature, which only came off once a year. You could buy it, but it did have a nasty habit of spontaneously combusting in transit and so was often covered in all sorts of stop-ignition charms, utterly defeating the point.

As she crept up she made a point to crouch directly behind it so the feathers of its beard blocked any chance of detection. She finally was in range and scooped it up securely.

"There we are. See you don't want to squeeze them like an orange, more like picking up an egg." She called back as she straightened herself. The little fire-engine red lizard's back was laying flush against her palm with her thumb gently pinning it in place. The creature's hands were wrapped around her thumb looking desperately for any place to bite.

"I didn't have issues catching the beast. Get the skin off and then you can brag." He commented boredly behind her. With a smile and a reassuring voice she began to address the Firebeard.

"Why hello there. Don't worry I wont hurt you," she cooed. The huge eyes below her seemed to lock on to hers and it immediately stopped squirming. "I know you were just about warm enough to shed. Would you like some help with that? Hm?"

The animal didn't respond of course. However, it didn't seem too put out when she took hold of the small transparent tag of it's shed, hanging off its neck. Slowly and careful she pulled it back, pausing when it stuck so that the lizard could readjust. When it was just past the breastbone she set the creature down, keeping a firm hold on the partially removed shed. As soon as it's feet touched the rock it took off, leaving a perfect ghost of it's skin behind. Triumphantly she held it up to her student hoping she looked as smug as she felt.

"That was luck." He scoffed, holding out a small handkerchief of silk cloth. She carefully took it and folded the skin inside of it. The silk locked in magic and prevented the shed from catching fire.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." She offered and went in search of another donor. She was having a great time in spite of herself. She couldn't help but wonder if she could hope for a day that he didn't outright hate her.

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Hermione had gone to the lowest level to fetch the last few firebeard skins while he sat on a rocky outcrop further up, ensuring that the skins were properly wrapped. To be quite honest, Draco had no idea the creatures were so beautiful. He had only ever used their shed, which were at best a ruddy brown. In all actuality the bright red scales set a beautiful contraction to the golden feathers that encircled their necks. Even if it was terribly Gryffindor.

He heard a snap behind him and quickly drew his wand from the pocket in his sleeve. Unsure of what he would find, he whirled around praying there weren't any manticores in this place. He was almost disappointed when he was met with Longbottom's wand mirroring his own.

Now as a rule, Draco didn't like to back down. He was a huge proponent of 'don't draw your wand unless you intend to use it'. However, it was dreadfully rude to draw your wand on someone in their home in the first place. Even if he wasn't sure they were still technically in the other man's home.

"You should be more careful, sneaking up on me rarely ends well." He stated, withdrawing his wand back into its pocket. Thankfully Neville also lowered his but did not put it away.

"How can I sneak up on anyone? It's my greenhouse."

"Don't sell it short Longbottom. This is significantly more than a simple greenhouse." He must have extended some sort of peace branch as the boy finally relaxed his stance and strapped his wand to his forearm. Draco was perilously close to the edge of a cliff and decided there was no such thing as too much flattery. "It really is a marvel."

"You going to offer to buy it?" Neville shot out suspiciously. Draco couldn't help but chuckle a bit. If it were anyone else's he probably would have.

"Would you ever agree to sell it?" He questioned with a smirk.

"Not on your life." Neville moved to hop on a fallen branch that crossed two rock between them. While his arms supported his weight, his legs swung over to rest in a seated position, hanging down. The baggy pockets on his cargo pants jingled with an assortment of tools. He never really lost the baby cheeks he had as a child but hard labor had certainly toned him a bit. Draco wasn't sure he would even be able to stand up to him should things get physical. He was much more adept with magic than brute strength.

"What's your game Malfoy?" The question didn't exactly throw him off guard. He figured this looked, at best, strange from their point of view. At worst, malicious.

"I don't have a game, Longbottom."

"And yet you are sitting under my roof, folding Firebeard skins like they're laundry."

"I have always dreamed of domestic bliss," he shot back immediately.

"Drop the shit Draco. What do you want with her?"

"You act like I have a say in this." Somewhat as a ploy and somewhat unconsciously he turned to glance down at the subject of their conversation. She was so far down she was barely a smudge of Navy and brown.

"Last I checked, both parties had to sign on."

"Merlin, why does everyone treat me like evil incarnate? She's in this too you know. I didn't even bloody well know it was her," he spat tearing his view away as she leapt after another lizard.

"I don't take pity on Death Eaters." Neville stared at him with a surprising amount of hostility. Draco knew he had been involved in the battle of Hogwarts. But, all of their interactions at Saint Mungo's had been pleasant, if not surface. This upset was distasteful.

"I am surprised you are the one giving me the big brother talk. Seems like you are stepping on Potter's toes." A strange look crossed Longbottom's face before it schooled back into stony silence.

"I'm only going to say this once. Hermione has done me an unrequitable favor and-"

"I know, I know. 'If you hurt her, I will find you.' and whatnot. You are slow to the party there. Oddly no one seems concerned with the fact she's the one who has been nearly killing me every time I get dragged to that little workshop of hers."

"She let you in there?" Neville questioned raising an eyebrow. Draco couldn't help but feel like he was somehow losing a fight he didn't know he was having.

"Let, dragged, kidnapped. It's all the same." There was a scrambling of rocks below as Hermione made her way up the canyon path.

"I don't know why she thinks you are worth saving," Neville stated simply. With a heave, he leapt off the downed wood and landed squarely on his feet. "I am not going to threaten you, that's not my place and I am sure she already has. I will warn you though. Hermione sees good in everyone, even when it's not there. Resolve whatever bargain you two made and never speak to her again. Nothing good will come of this, for you or for her."

"What makes you think I care about her well being?" Draco responded back hotly.

"I don't. That's the problem." A sac plopped over the edge of the rock shortly before a ponytail of frizzy brown hair. He remained standing while Hermione struggled to lift herself over the edge.

"Alright, that's the last one. Were you talking to someone?" Hermione asked, pushing back some stray hairs. Draco turned to Longbottom but no one was there.

"No. I wasn't. So we're done here?" He growled gathering her pouch containing the last few sheds. He double checked their wrapping as she got herself sorted.

"Uh, sure." She dusted off her robes and held out her arm. Draco snatched at it, sick to death of feeling like a foreigner in a situation he had zero say in. "Ow, ease up. I'm not going anywhere."

"Just get us back." He loosened his grip as she muttered. The jumps barely registered as they landed in the parlor. Luna was chopping up some sort of root. Before Hermione could start a conversation he dropped her arm and swept out the door.

"Oh, do watch out for Father." He nearly tripped over the dog who just eyed him passively. Now that he was back outside things felt less suffocating. That was the problem with using anger as a motivator, it tended to burn itself out quickly. Hermione followed shortly after, scrambling to keep up.

"Oh, sorry Xenophilius. Hope you have a good nap." The dog simply huffed before closing its eyes.

"Wait, that's her father?" Draco questioned from where he waited from the front gate. The old white dog looked every bit like a normal animal, if not a bit large.

"Accident while working on a spell. It's been about two years I think." She stated, unlocking the gate and swinging it open. He passed through the ivy covered walls, looking out on the rolling fields.

"Should we report that to someone?"

"Oh, I made them a fix a while ago." She said stepping out herself and latching the gate behind her. The cottage flickered for a moment before fading, leaving nothing but miles of wildflowers and hills. She smiled warmly as he gazed at the majesty around them. "Apparently he likes being a dog and didn't want to take it. I tend not to question most things when it comes to those two."

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When she got to the top of the cliff Draco was fuming. He was attempting to hide it, so clearly it wasn't her fault but the warning bells in her head didn't simply go away after years of abuse. He strode out of the parlor without a word to Luna.

"Ah sorry about that." She offered to her friend. It wasn't all that surprising but it was still rude.

"It's quite alright. I am sure Neville said something to upset him. He gets all defensive like that sometimes."

"I know. It's nice to have people watch your back. Other times it just makes a bloody mess of things," she sighed and waved to her friend.

"Keep an eye out for snarflats in your pantry. It's breeding season and they're after your flour." Luna supplied with a wave. One of her favorite things about Luna is that she was never changed. She was just the same as when they were in school, if not slightly more credible.

When she and Draco arrived back home she stared out into her darkened workroom. She had intended to start processing all the sheds they collected but would definitely need more light. With a sigh she waved her hand as the ambient light in the room rose, coming from no specific source. She had wanted to keep it hard for him to see into her home but figured after her late arrival earlier today he probably did all the snooping he wanted.

"This is much…."

"Cozier?" she offered waving again for the tea to start. With only a second's pause she noticed the discarded teacup on her work table and spelled it clean as well.

"Less depressing is what I was going for." She heard him set down the pack on the floor before striding back to the fire place.

"You aren't staying for tea?" she questioned as his hand froze in the floo powder.

"I didn't realize I was invited." he offered, pulling back slightly.

"Well since you're in such a hurry to leave you don't need to be. In any event I figured out a communication solution." She glided over to a box on the mantle that she had picked up a few days prior. The outside was a pale blue and covered in filigree blooming daisies.

"Thank Merlin. It's so hard to plan a week around random kidnappings." He rubbed his hand on his slacks as she opened the box. Inside were two thick chained silver friendship bracelets.

"Here you are." She smiled and held out a randomly selected one. It's charm dangled below her fist, a half heart with the word 'friends' carved in cursive on the silver.

"What. Is. that." His tone dripped with deep offense and couldn't help it when her grin widened.

"A friendship bracelet. It's enchanted so you can write secret messages to each other on the charm. Don't you like it?"

"Absolutely not. I won't be caught dead wearing that. Pick something else."

"Do you have a better idea? Although I think they had a flower design as well. But it was gold and I thought it would clash with your skin." She teased him, enjoying his look of disgust immensely.

"What are you, seven? No. I cannot even begin to think of how noticeable a friendship bracelet would be on me. Let alone any questions I would have to answer, Blaise would lock me up in Saint Mungo's and Theo would insist on one himself. The answer is no."

"Theo...Theodore Nott? You still talk to him. Last I heard he was in a displaced wizarding home on suspicion of crafting illegal time turners."

"My private life is not your concern Granger. Now, I am going home." He tried to push past her to get to the floo, and she figured she had pushed him enough.

"Oh fine. I _had_ liked the design so much but I suppose the runes were all we really needed. What would you wear? Something that could pass daily? It's no use tossed in a drawer." She suggested pulling out her wand. Runes were tricky things and finding an already enchanted item was rare, especially in such a foolish design. She couldn't help but wonder if the bracelets had already been transfigured from their original purpose when she bought them.

"Cufflink?" he suggested with a shrug.

"Too small something bigger? Necklace?" Transfiguration was difficult. She didn't want to have to take away any material to make it smaller, she may end up ruining the enchantment by accident.

"Too noticeable." He paused for a moment. "Pocket watch?"

"Do you always have a pocket for it?" she questioned as he stood in her living room in just a dress shirt and slacks. He had spelled his robes away during the hike through the fields, probably due to the heat.

"Fine. A regular watch?" he questioned running his hand through his hair. Hermione almost felt bad, she was getting pretty tired herself. She hadn't meant for their meet up to take this long but he was being so pleasant and Firebeards _did_ only shed once a year so you had to capitalize on what you could.

"A watch could work. Do you want me to do it? I have a good background in ancient runes," she offered.

"You picked out the bracelet, I can't help but question your design taste," he growled but snatched the silver from her hand and slipped it on his left wrist. While she was joking about color options she couldn't help but be glad it was silver. It was definitely much easier to change than gold _and_ gold would have looked bad on his skin. If she was putting in the work to make it presentable, it better look stellar.

"Oh, calm down, I have the perfect design in mind." She drew her wand from the folds of her robes and held his forearm with his palm facing up. Carefully, she pictured the watch she spent so much of her childhood staring at. Its silver links woven together at the band built up to an ebony black face with silver hands. Little square diamonds took the place of numbers, as it was not the sort of watch you wore to tell time. Perfect for their purposes.

She couldn't help but picture the slight scratch near the six o clock mark. Hermione was six and had charged up to her father with an interesting rock to show him but tripped. He of course caught her but the rock nicked the glass and left a small scratch. Her mother was in a tizzy over it. Apparently the thing was her grandfather's and near irreplaceable. However, her father just smiled and chuckled. 'What's the point of having a watch you can't wear? It's going to get beat up. It's going to have stories.'

Her concentration broke as her eyes began to mist slightly. She cut off the spell before it fell apart. She glanced down to see a perfect recreation of that timepiece laced around Draco Malfoy's wrist, even the little nick she gave it. Some part of her was horrified and felt like she had given a part of herself away. The rational part of her told her to calm down, it wasn't even a real watch.

"Wow, this is a nice piece. Antique, well-made, expensive. Yes, this is completely believable," Draco stated as he held up his arm to the light. "What did you model it after?"

"It's my dad's. Well it was," she corrected rubbing her eyes clear.

"'Was'? What happened to it?"

"It was stolen," she offered truthfully taking out the other artifact and sliding it on her own wrist. With a much simpler outline, her's morphed quickly into a plain silver band, flush against her skin. "That should do it. I think the messages should show up on the face, you should feel when the magic activates."

He stared at the watch for a moment when Hermione felt a slight tingle at her own wrist. Glancing down she only waited a moment before words began to etch themselves on the surface. **Hermione Granger is a know-it-all swot.**

She scowled and focused on her own set. _Draco Malfoy needs to learn to say thank you like a normal human._

She was rewarded with an indigent snort from the boy as he dropped his arm to his side.

"Great, well at least I don't have to worry about being interrupted from something important now."

"Try to take this seriously Malfoy." She chastised, wandering to sit at her work table. "I will leave you be unless it's strictly necessary but in exchange I need you to respond when messaged. This is all for your benefit not mine."

"Fine fine. Can I go now? I do have things to do."

She sighed as she slumped into her comfortable work chair. Her muscles were in rough shape and she definitely needs a bath. She gingerly grasped the beat up tea cup that came sailing onto the table in front of her.

"Ah yes, your mysterious 'things'. Go on then, I'll message you the night before I plan on having you port in." The calming effects were instant and she left her shoulders droop.

"Uh, Granger," Malfoy shifted in front of the fireplace. His arm was raised to his neck flashing the silver in the warm light of her rooms. He gazed at the ceiling, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Yes?"

"I really do have things to do… Sorry about the tea." He rushed the words. He had a handful of floo powder waiting and clearly had no intention of joining her.

"Well then you had better get going," she responded, raising her eyebrow and wondering why he hadn't left. He simply nodded before stepping into the fireplace and calling out the name of his flat.

She stared wistfully at the out of place white china on the edge of her table. It steamed warmly, even as it stood starkly formal against her otherwise warm but eclectic home. In a way, its lack of belonging made it fit right in with everything else that didn't match. She sipped her tea until the steam of his cup had cooled, leaving a puddle of lukewarm water in a gold rimmed vessel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Flippin' Firebeards-  
> Little bright red lizards about 6-8 inches long with manes of golden feathers that extend when threatened. The cannot breath fire however when they bite embers at the tips of their teeth create a literal burn that can serve as a catch if exposed to tinder. If the burning wound is doused in water all effects disappear.


	14. A Discussion of Ethics

Draco stared at the fine silver links lacing around his wrist. He did some research on the piece in the days following his little class reunion. It was a muggle set, but so immensely valuable it wouldn't look out of place on him. It was a shame it was a duplication, albeit a good one. It was a unique piece that had a subtle classy vibe to it. Which is why Zabini ended up in his office today.

"Wow, front page of the Threadwitch. Impressive. It took me weeks to make it there," Blaise crooned lazily from his chair in front of Draco's desk as he tossed the magazine at the blond.

Draco was greeted by a very professional looking shot of him exiting the building in just his suit. He was wearing a dark suit and dress shirt with a white tie. The silver of the watch flashed brilliantly in the light from the oil lamps. He really had nothing to complain about, he did look amazing.

It had just rained and he was on foot. That means he had been seen… Yesterday. The day after he had gotten back from a 'lesson' at Granger's, explaining why he was tired enough to be caught unaware in public. He thought back on the useful day.

_"Where on earth, did you get this?" Draco asked her as he marveled at the heavy block of parchment and leather in his hands. The cover dyed a deep black with golden ink spelling out A Better Way: Newt Scamander._

_"Luna apparently knows his grandson. They work together on occasion and it was a wedding present for her. She told me to take care of it since their library is constantly full of an assortment of magical creatures. I actually have all their originals and made them copies," Hermione stated from her table as she measured out a teal liquid into a jar._

_"This is one of the rarest books in the magical community. He only published 100 of them to begin with, and they were only sold in a single bookshop! This thing is worth a fortune and she just gave it to you?" he stared in shock at the pristine copy of the final reference of Newt Scamander's career. While highly criticized at the time, years later the book became the subject of legends as many Master Potioneers swore by it. But by then all copies had either been lost, destroyed, or hoarded into private collections. Even the copy he had managed to get a hold of was so beaten up it was illegible for most of the first half._

_"I am glad you are so interested. You will need to have read the forward by the next time we meet. But, you aren't leaving this place with it." She spelled a piece of paper into a plane and sent it floating over to the couch. It unfolded to reveal a complicated selection of runes, sketched into the page._

_"I can't read this," he responded haughtily. He had never taken Ancient Runes, much preferring Alchemy instead._

_"It's a duplication spell. It will copy whatever you hover your wand over as long as you keep it over the parchment you intend to transfer it to." She shook another vial, this one bright green and held it to the light. "It will take a lot of concentration and magic so at least it will keep your mouth busy."_

He couldn't argue that the damn timepiece was worth it considering the disguised novel sitting on the edge of his desk. But, by Merlin, it was still troublesome.

"I hate being in any paper," he grumbled as he stared at the magazine in distaste. 'Back In Black' flittered in bold white letters at the top of the page. The publication was known for being on the absolute edge of fashion, even at the expense of privacy.

"But it's an absolute rave!" Blaise smiled as he snatched the paper back. He flipped to a tagged page and cleared his throat. "We have to admit, when a Malfoy does bad, he never looks so good. Draco Malfoy has been known for his darker pallet but has not been seen in all black for years (in spite of current fashion trends). It seems he was just waiting to make a statement against the popular warm colors of this year's autumn collection. The outfit is contrasted by his overall light coloring and ivory silk tie but the real piece de resistance is the stunning muggle watch peaking out from under his sleeve. Blood purity had no space in the world of fashion as we can clearly see here. While no doubt one-of-a-kind you can find a similar, much more affordable, piece at Marie's Hypnotic Clockwork-"

"Oh shut up," Draco scoffed, throwing a crumpled up paper at the other boys head. Blaise took the moment to snatch Draco's wrist examining the watch up close. He had commented on it when they went out on Friday but didn't look too overtly. Draco couldn't help but worry, he hadn't seen anything to indicate it's contact capabilities, but Blaise could spot a knock off from halfway across a crowd.

Something felt unusually wrong about hiding all of this from his friends. He wasn't sure why, they all respected each other's lives and tried to stay out of things they weren't invited to. But something about this in particular made him feel defensive. Not that he could tell them even if he wanted to.

"It's a really nice watch. I am a bit pissed you found it before I did. Not many of these survived the Second World War." Apparently passing muster, Blaise's hand released him and he had to resist pulling back too quickly.

"You have hundreds of watches."

"One could always use another." 

"Why are you here Blaise?" he questioned, knowing something was already cooking in his fellow wizards mind. All PR was good PR once Blaise got his hands on it. And he was nothing, if not an opportunist.

"Well, as we both know. Your reputation as a CEO is indisputable. Your leadership is highly praised. You ethics are pillars of excellence."

"But?" Draco questioned.

"Your personality could use some work." Blaise stated bluntly while tapping the magazine against his chin. "While most people had forgotten that messy business with the war there are some holdouts. Hold outs, I think this newest hunk of metal could help with."

"You think a watch is going to get the ministry off my back?" The Muggle Defense Force have had a trace on him ever since the war ended. Nothing too invasive but it irked him nonetheless. While he couldn't really fault their logic, he didn't like knowing someone was watching him at all hours.

"I think you developing an attachment to a muggle object might."

"What sort of attachment?" Draco narrowed his eyes. He wasn't sure if he could stomach some bullocks story about a sentimental relative.

"No, no. Not an emotional one. That would take away from the impact. Maybe just write into the fashion rag. Leave a comment about how you saw that watch and it spoke to you. That its craftsmanship is superior and it's a shame that more like it aren't around. Make it seem like you really appreciate the muggle's skill. They'll publish it of course. That was you can present as an ally in a way that's minimally offensive to any delicate clients."

"I suppose I would have to wear it frequently then?" This was a good solution that worked well for him. He was personally planning on having Hermione transfigure it every visit but this was much easier.

"For a few months at least. The more frequent the better. Keep it like you would a hot girlfriend. Well maintained and in the spotlight." Blaise commented with a laugh.

"You're a cad, Zabini." He sighed as he rubbed his eyes. He was going to need another coffee soon.

"True. But I am your favorite cad."

"Before I kick you out of my office. Do you have anything else to share?" Draco questioned as the light bounced off the silver links.

"Hm? Like dinner recommendations?"

"About that issue I had you look into." He really didn't want to have to ask again.

"Ah, Granger. Well…" Blaise drew his wand slowly and waved it over Draco's desk. A large stack of perfectly folded newspaper appeared. In spite of the organization they were faded and yellowed around the rim. A familiar but much younger witch stared out from the front page, her eyes blinking at the flash.

_Hermione Granger Missing_

The bold text shifted a moment later as her image faded into smoke.

_Where has she gone?_

"From everything I have found she disappeared sometime after the summer of 99'. Huge scandal. It was in all the papers at the time but we were… you know." Blaise trailed off as his left hand drifted to rest on his wrist.

"She's not been heard of since? Even, behind the scenes?" Draco questioned, dragging the stack toward him.

"Nothing from my informants. She really does appear to have just vanished into thin air. The investigation by the ministry was massive but eventually petered out. There was thought that when Potter became minister he would start it up again, but he never did."

"Any idea why not?"

"For a while there were rumblings that he had gotten rid of her himself, as she stood to be next in line for Minister after graduation. But those rumors came out to be purely speculative. If he knows where she is he isn't sharing."

"Sounds like she doesn't want to be found."

"Safe to say. Well?" Blaise questioned with heavy implication. Blaise was as invested in their company as he was, of course he would want to know about a perceived threat.

"No, I must have been mistaken." 

"You rarely make mistakes."

"Drop it Blaise," he growled, flicking his gaze upwards. "Now get out of my office."

00000000000

_Friday bring Sphinx hair._

**Busy Friday.**

_Thursday then._

**Fine.**

0000000000000000000000000000

Draco dutifully glided over to the window nook as soon as his feet hit the ground. She had actually managed to clean it up for him and it did make quite a comfortable spot. He had just finished copying out the Scamander book earlier last week and was hoping to start on a hand bound book that contained surprisingly detailed notes about Wacklespurt fur.

Hermione nodded to him as she ground something pink from her table. A bright floral scent pervaded the room from the cast iron cauldron bubbling away.

He settled into his spot, leaning his back against the wall with his knees pulled up in front of him. He watched for a moment as the witch tinkered about with her new potion. It smelled like something he had made before but couldn't quite put his finger on it. It must have been years ago.

Reaching for the leather-bound book he was disappointed by the lack of rune covered parchment. It looked like he would have to wait to get his copy. Receiving no other direction from Hermione he cracked open the journal and began to read.

After 10 minutes he was forced to give up. His mind simple couldn't focus and kept supplying him with various amusing images of the author getting caught up in a wackspurt mating ritual. Instead he stared out into the London sky, blessed with a sunny, if not windy day.

He was certain when he first moved to the window Hermione would stop him but she actually encouraged it. The first time he visited after finishing the Scamander book he was greeted by a selection of rare and intriguing selections.

_"You are getting in my way. Go hide in the corner," she huffed out as she hauled a large geode across the room._

A large expanse of gray buildings with faded roofs stretched out for blocks. They were built in the common style that London was known for and could have been a part of any neighborhood. Hermione's workshop was even high enough up that any people going about their business on the ground were indistinguishable as muggle or wizard.

He was debating the effectiveness of trying to use star charts to pinpoint their location when Hermione cleared her throat.

"You brought the hair?" She beckoned him over to her table. He was vaguely tempted to refuse to move and force her to come fetch it but he still hadn't figured out what potion she was making and was a bit curious.

"Egyptian silk. The highest grade," he stated nonchalantly as he pulled the small woven braid from his robe pocket and tossed it on the table. He was actually quite proud of it. It took forever to find a decent source.

"Great, now compare it to this." Hermione pulled out her own selection, gently placing it next to his.

"Why did you have me bring any if you had some?" He really hated the mental games, knowing she was about to insult his intelligence in some way.

"It's part of the lesson. Now look and tell me the difference." She returned to gently stirring the cauldron, two spins clockwise, three spins counter.

With a sigh he picked up the two samples. Other than the ribbon that tied them off they both looked similar. Thick black strands were woven into tight braids for storage. Both were certainly potion grade however the difference was obvious. This wasn't even a boring challenge.

"Mine is clearly a higher quality. It is perfectly silky and straight, with no fly-aways or breaks. Your's looks fine but has some definite sun and wind damage."

"Correct." She mused as she sniffed at the potion. "Why is that?"

"I would assume yours came from a hunt on a wild sphinx, albeit a healthy one. Mine is from a collector I know. It was kept in his menagerie in perfect contentment with pristine care." He wasn't lying, that creature lived better than most wizards he knew. It wanted for nothing.

"Interesting theory. Okay then." He watching critically as she added a ladle full of potion to two mugs. She carefully pulled a single strand from his braid and one from hers before adding them to the cups. She pushed them closer to him and crossed her arms. "Drink. Small sips."

"What is it?" he questioned as he sniffed the pastel pink liquid. It was still warm and smelled vaguely of hibiscus tea with a touch of cream.

"You don't know?" she challenged, raising an eyebrow. Clearly he should know and the fact that he didn't irked him. Rather than responding he took a sip of his concoction. It tasted like it smelled and felt like warm honey in his throat. Certainly better than most potions he had tasted.

He was so prepared for something drastic to happen the first giggle shocked him. His hands flew to his mouth automatically. Malfoys did _not_ giggle. Soon more were forcing their way past his lips until he was laughing wildly and holding his sides. This continued for about 2 minutes before he felt the laughter subside.

"That is the first time I have heard you laugh without doing something cruel," Hermione supplied as she scratched notes into a nearby journal. He wasn't sure why she was notating anything, it was a totally standard potion with standard results. As a matter of fact they had made it in their second year in school.

"Liquid humor, amusing." He breathed as he tried to regain control of his body. Inhaling slowly his body returned to normal and his heart rate steadied.

"The other one now." She flicked her quill toward the potion containing her ingredient. While the base of the potion was well brewed the weaker quality ingredient should result in less of an impact. He was expecting a fit of giggles and maybe some amused snorts. What he was not expecting was the side splitting pain as he immediately burst into uproarious laughter. His knees gave out from under him as he rolled back in forth, slapping at the floor and crying. Two minutes later it finally abated and he was able to pull deep, gasping breaths. His lungs burned and his abdomen quivered at the excessive use.

"Ow," he commented bitterly as he laid on the floor recovering. He briefly wondered if his knees were bruised from the impact. A chair was summoned near the table and he took it as his cue to drag himself up.

"Pardon, it's usually not so potent. I had forgotten that you were unused to humor." She supplied somewhat sincerely from across the table. Draco sneered, he was not amused.

"Why exactly did you feel the need to do that?"

"It makes the lesson more impactful, you wouldn't have believed me otherwise."

"What lesson? Unless the lesson is don't drink potions you don't trust." Which is a good lesson in general. Just not one that applies to this situation.

"Have you even read what you've been copying down from Mr. Scamander." She sighed dramatically, knowing he had. "What does the very first page say?"

"Table of contents," he replied cheekily.

"You are infuriating. The forward, what does the forward say."

He thought back to the book he had read many times over the past couple of days. The forward was a major reason why the book had so many critics. It attested that magical creatures had rights and should only be harvested when needful and in a way that was nondestructive as possible.

"Something about holding hands and singing with creatures that are willing to eat your face. Quite ridiculous if you ask me. You should agree with that given your career path. Potioneer's need ingredients, sometimes lesser creatures have to die for them. You know that."

"Sometimes yes, but the point of the book is that it's not always necessary and should be avoided when possible. Sure dragon liver is vital to treatment for dragonpox, but maybe we don't need unicorn blood for its nail lengthening properties."

"I am not really here to debate ethics with you."

"Fine let's at least focus on diluting harm," she stated holding up the two braids in front oh her. "So, we have determined your sphinx hair was of higher quality physically. Then why was my lower quality potion more potent?"

"Sabotage?" he suggested with a smirk.

"Funny. No, do you know where I got this hair?" She asked pushing her selection towards him. He took it and held it up to the light for a better view.

"I would assume by your impassioned speech you did not kill it… Did you perhaps drug a wild one and cut it's hair while it slept?"

"I would never."

"Overpower it?" he asked doubtfully. Sphinx were terrifyingly strong creatures and should not be taken lightly.

"No."

"Follow it around collection shedding hairs. I don't know. Can't you just tell me?"

"You have missed the most obvious solution, Malfoy," she responded snatching back the hair. "I asked."

"Pardon? It sounded to me like you meant you asked a dangerous man eating magical creature it for a clump of hair?"

"I did."

"And it just… gave it to you?" he questioned incredulously. Sphinx were not friendly creatures. They were frequently used as guards for treasures and were known to attack viciously anyone who failed to outwit them.

"No of course not. I found it wandering some ruins in the Yucatan Peninsula. Apparently, it had been there for hundreds of years defending a treasure long forgotten. As expected it asked me a riddle and I answered correctly. In return it granted me passage to collect the treasure but of course I didn't want whatever cursed hoard rested in those ruins. The Mayans were famously skilled in blood magic and I had no interest in whatever souls still clung to their artifacts."

"If you weren't treasure hunting then why were you even there." He cut in. Who just leaves behind a treasure? Even if it was cursed that's what curse breakers are for. Drag them over to fix it and just slide them a cut. Who knows what secrets she left lying under some stone.

"I was studying the protection runes carved into their buildings. Let me finish," she chastised while pinning him with a dangerous look. "In any event, the sphinx refused to let me pass. It is the nature of the creature. If you answer it's riddle you earn a boon. It is integral to its worldview to pay that boon no matter what. I asked for some hair and it consented."

"Your point being?"

"It gave it to me Malfoy. I didn't force it. I didn't steal it. It was given willingly and that is what made it more powerful than yours."

"I don't understand. Mine has the best care available. It is maintained like a loving house pet. It's not like it was held down and had it's hair ripped from its scalp." Although he had heard of places that do that.

"But did you ask to have some?"

"What? No? Why would I ask?" he questioned incredulously. What a ridiculous notion.

"So it could consent. Wouldn't you like to be asked before some witch cuts off your hair? No matter how happy she made you."

"You speak like it's sentient. Like the creature has feelings." He scoffed at the very idea.

"Of course it's sentient. It talks! It reasons! Good god Malfoy, it's smarter than half of the students in Hogwarts. You cannot tell me you honestly believe it doesn't have feelings."

"I don't believe you," he stated simply. It was just too out there. If it were true the entire sourcing supply chain had some massive kinks in it. Kinks that he was going to have to insist on working out.

"Ugh, fine have some more potion. We have enough of it to do this all day. Think logically for a moment. What is the only other way two identical potions were so vastly different?"

He stewed for a moment, trying to think of another way out. But, Draco was a man of reason and results, unfortunately her's could not be argued with. If her story was to be believed that was the only explanation. She didn't have any reason to lie to him either, if the vow would even let her.

"Say you are correct Granger. Say the whole potion industry is violent and corrupt. What do you want me to do about it? Shouldn't you be up on a soap box with your face plastered across pamphlets about animal rights?"

"I can shout all I want, but I am just an outsider to the big scary men in their ivory towers," she responded primly. Draco couldn't help but feel like he had just walked into a trap. "The biggest change starts with a few small steps. Steps that I think you can monetize, thus making standard."

"You're kidding me. You want me as corporate shill?" Draco couldn't help his genuine laugh. If anyone had told him a year ago he would be sitting in Hermione Grangers house, being lectured on ethics he would have hexed them where they stood.

"Is it such a terrible idea? Ignoring all the abusive implications, think from a strictly monetary stand point. You saw how effective that potion was. You could use so many less ingredients. Plus as you know, sphinxes do quite well in captivity. Even for your production you would only need a small family. So why not."

"Say I were to entertain this. Which I am not. Where would I even find a sphinx willing to not eat me? Let alone one I could move into a happy little farm."

"It could be arranged. I happen to know of a small group in Egypt. They are over crowded and under resourced. A deal could be reached," she responded, sighing in defeat. "Just look into it, okay. There are ways we can both be winners here. You just need to accept a win without trying to make me to lose."

"There is only a winner if someone loses Granger. To think otherwise is fool-hearty idealism."

"Why are you so bitter?" she questioned heatedly while crossing her arms.

"Why aren't you?" The stared at each other in angry silence for a few moments before Draco stood up, pushing the chair back dramatically. They were clearly done for the day

"Is that all?" he questioned already heading to the floo. He was so distracted by his anger he jumped at the delicate touch encircling his wrist.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Hermione stuttered out while staring at the rug. She drew here eyes up to meet his. The brown of her irises were overtaken by the dark bags under her lids. He couldn't help but wonder if she was sleeping at all.

"It's fine. You shouldn't care about my feelings," he responded, the fire of his anger effectively squashed.

"Just think about it okay?" she suggested releasing his wrist. He found himself nodding before turning back to the floo. He grabbed a handful of powder but turned back to the girl standing in the middle of the living room.

"What was the sphinx's riddle?" he asked.

"Spiraled in, long at ease.

Fear my bite, and silent breeze.

Underfoot, I do hide.

Embody the darkness stained inside." she recited faithfully. A small smile quirking at her lips. He thought for a moment before coming to the answer.

"A snake." He rolled his eyes at the obviousness of it. She simply nodded and he stepped into the floo, on his way to his office. He had much more on his mind than he liked and was hoping to drown it in paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Time line update  
> -Around the 5/6 week mark
> 
> So long Scamander  
> -Just a cameo. I imagine later in life the man would move from researching creatures to advocating for them. Something the wizarding community wouldn't take lightly in his time.
> 
> Rolling in it  
> \- Draco has got a Rolexxxxxx! It is a watch I could see him compromising on any leftover ideals for.


	15. A Mutual Understanding

He hated what he was about to do. He hated that he was even considering. He hated that Theo was in his office on a Saturday morning. He hated Granger for manufacturing all of this. But, above, all Draco Malfoy was a business man. And he had gotten this far by taking opportunity whenever it presented itself.

Theo was looking all too comfortable sitting in front of Draco's desk. His curly hair bounced above the wing backed chair as he cocked his head to the left. Draco sighed and shed his cloak to drift off into whatever corner it usually hung in.

As he rounded his desk Theo didn't even bother to look up. He was flipping through a gossip rag of a magazine and drinking some of Draco's best quality private stash hot chocolate spiked with something that smelled like vanilla and burning. He mentally cursed his receptionist and made a note to punish them later. Nothing too harsh, it was understandable after all. Theo had that effect on people.

Once he had been scooped out of that awful hovel for wayward wizards his face filled out. Without the iron fist of his father or trying to scrape by on scraps he began to smile more. If Blaise conquered the masses with sex appeal, Theo conquered the hearts of those who've met him with his shy smile and warm demeanor. Honestly, it was almost sickening how very Hufflepuff he seemed but nevertheless Theo managed to dance the line of boyish charm while hiding a sharp wit and endless ambition. It didn't hurt that he spent a good portion of his youth getting into trouble with the kid, that couldn't have left a good impression.

"Mornin' Draco," Theo said happily as he flicked to another page. "Did you know I am an autumn?"

"Is that so? I would have pegged you for a wizard," Draco mused as his cup of coffee floated in and landed on his desk.

"It says right here with my mid level skin and hair color I should be wearing deep maroons and golden yellows."

"Ah, well I am sure you can find some poor Gryffindor's closet to raid. However, this is not a social call." Draco saw the shift in the boy immediately. It was sometimes hard to remember Theo as the formidable scholar he was. Even in potions Theo outweighed Draco in pure skill, but he did lack the creativity to make anything new.

"I figured you may say that. That is why I brought the sales reports for the past month and a half. Was there something specific you were looking for?"

The large book Theo had hauled onto Draco's desk may have well had been Theo's child. It contained a meticulous record of every planting, harvest, collection, sale and loss of ingredient or product to ever pass through his warehouses. The attention to detail was staggering, thus why he was the one entrusted with it. What more would you expect from a man who built an illegal time turner just to better monitor the comings and goings of his neighbors? He always had been unreasonably nosy.

"Yes tell me about our potions made from Sphinx hair." Theo cringed but flipped to a page about a quarter of the way through the book.

"The only thing we use it for is our eyelash darkening line."

"How had it sold in the past?" Draco questioned as he blew on his coffee.

"Well, it sold out. But do not be too deceived, it went so quickly as word got out that it was a very small run. In total we have only sold about 9000 bottles globally before we ran out of raw materials," he commented smiling slyly. Blaise probably have something to do with that leak.

"That's all we use it for?" he questioned as he sipped on the bitter black liquid.

"Well yes. There are a few other uses I would like to institute and a few more lines I would love to play with but the material cost is too high. It's such a rare ingredient and so monitored by the Egyptian government they only let a few kilos export a per year. We were lucky to get a tenth of one last year."

"What if I could get you a direct source?" 

"As far as I am aware they are very difficult to hunt and the cost to import it would outweigh the effort put into marketing and creation for the rare success," Theo commented with his eyebrow raise. He was clearly wondering where Draco intended to go with this.

"What if I could get you a live one? Or six?" Draco commented nonchalantly as he stared out the window. October had brought, surprise, more rain and overcast skies.

"Six? Six? How would you even hope to successfully transport them? The one in the queen's menagerie only ended up there because it was found as a baby. Even then it nearly sank they ship they brought it on. Multiple times in fact."

"They are voluntary relocations. Or so I have been told." He loved being able to shock Theo. They animated way his mouth hung open was deeply amusing.

"Well the cost of needing to keep them drugged would factor in..."Theo mused while apparently running the numbers in his head.

"The deal is that they are relocated and I would assume housed. In exchange they donate hair on some sort of schedule. Would it be something worth looking into?" he questioned, hating Granger and her damn soapbox.

"Worth looking into? It would be worth killing for! Can you imagine all the relegated potions we could create? The leg up on the competition would be astronomical. Let alone what Blaise could do with the publicity. If everything were to check out legally we could ship it over to the international market. I hear the skin tinting market is picking up quickly in America."

Draco shuffled the man out of his office as he was still scratching in his log book. Unfortunately it did look like Granger had made a savvy business point and had backed him into a corner. Now he just had to figure out if it was feasible.

000000000000000000000000

**Meet. Now.**

Hermione stared in shock at the bracelet. With how Malfoy had stormed out of her workshop two days ago she was certain that he would want to be as far away as possible for as long as possible.

_Fine. You could be less rude about it._

She focused hard on the thought as she cast a quick dusting charm around the place. She had been working on a throat clearing potion and there was waterrock dust everywhere.

**Today Granger.**

Rolling her eyes she immediately regretted any attempt to make the place presentable and sent a quite whisper to the charm. She felt it respond, giving her five minutes to stabilize the potion. With a sigh she took her hair out of the bun she had tamed it into and wrapped her left arm in ribbon as she sat on the armchair facing the floo.

With an unfortunately graceful thunk, Draco Malfoy landed in her living room. In the month since this started he had become much more comfortable in her home and it irked her. Without missing a beat the Slytherin glided over to the couch directly to her left and settled himself on it with a grimace.

"Well?" she question, happy to let the irritation flow into her voice. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped. His scowl built up and melted away multiple times as she waited for him. Figuring there was nothing better to do she simply took the moment to rest her eyes. It was nearly a full five minutes later when he actually spoke.

"The sphinxes. Tell me about them." Hermione clearly did not hide her surprise well as he immediately threw his head to the side sneering.

"Well, like I said. They need to be relocated. The population is pretty sparse as a whole but the available places to guard dwindles every year as muggles and wizards find tombs." 

"What are the terms? What returns do I get in exchange for housing the beast? What amenities do they require? Are reproductive rights self monitored or-"

"Slow down, slow down." His question were rapid fired and she could barely keep up. She had to struggle to keep the pure hope out of her voice. "Does this mean you'll take them?"

"There are arrangements that need to be discussed. Terms of care and frequency of product delivery. Contracts to protect both sides-"

"Oh, Malfoy! You're going to help them. This is brilliant! I could hug you." She jumped out of the chair in excitement.

"Don't."

"I said could, not would. God why must you try to ruin everything. We're only doing this if they get rights Draco. I won't let you lie and lock them up in a cage."

"It's not a done deal. There are a lot of things I need to work out to determine if this will be profitable or not. And if it's even possible. I wouldn't put it past you to just walk me into a den to be rid of me. But regardless, I stand by my word"

"Look, I don't know the answer to these." She couldn't help but contain her smile as she paced the well worn rug in front of him. "It's something you'll have to work out with them. While you won't be walking into a den, I would advise that your remain polite. I'll have to send word to the Queen and have to gather everyone. We'll also need to find some research on the best way to house them. Oh, I think I have a book on that. You can borrow it, let me just- "

Suddenly her Saturday was full of activity and it wasn't even noon.

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"You know Malfoy, I think she has a crush on you," Hermione crooned as they landed in her dingy loft. Draco rolled his eyes as they adjusted to the light. Even he had seen this for the good deal it was. The Queen had too many sphinx in too small of an area. Relocation was the only option to avoid a threat to her position. Draco understood it. He didn't have to like it.

"Because she didn't try to eat me?"

The creature was deeply uncomfortable to deal with. Its feline body and razor sharp claws were acceptable. Even it's quill-filled mane, while wildly dangerous, was something he could get used to. The clearly human expressions on its proud face and sensible logic were disquieting considering that they were still categorized as beast by the ministry. It was almost as if they were human; and that was something he could have gone without knowing. Sure they were violent, but so were wizards.

"You must be a cat person," Hermione called as she wandered over to her work table. Seemingly without direction an old chipped tea set and a familiar cup drifted over.

"Hey, that's my tea cup!" Draco cried indignantly as the cup hovered opposite the witch. She had settled into a chair and conjured up another as the old pot poured out a fragrant lavender scent.

"Is it? Perhaps you shouldn't leave your dirty dishes around for me to clean up then. I am not a maid," she scoffed, kicking the chair slightly away from the table. Figuring it was as good of an invite as he was going to get her rolled his eyes and wandered over. The teacup, apparently eager to be filled, shook slightly before landing on the saucer in front of him.

"What was with all those riddles?" he remarked. "A child could have answered them. 'I stand but don't move. I get wetter as I dry.' I though Sphinx are supposed to be clever."

"The older ones are. But they couldn't leave their post. Can't exactly leave a treasure unguarded to attend a meeting, you know. They have a reputation to protect," Hermione commented with a yawn.

The meeting had taken the better part of the day and night had already fallen. Waiting for her to finish he took a sip of his tea. As suspected it was lavender, with just a hint of lemon.

"Right well it all looks in order. If they can get themselves here of their own accord I don't have to worry about any import laws." He slid his hand into his pocket, fingering the bright red gem. "You say they will be able to find this?"

"While known for their riddles they do not tend to care about the outcome of a thief either way. However, they would not be good guards if you could just sneak by and take their treasure. Trust me, they know exactly where that is and it burns them not to have it. Where are you going to set them up anyway?"

"Malfoy manor," Draco supplied calmly. He was mildly upset for letting it slip but it was clear that whatever she was, Hermione certainly wasn't one to sell trade secrets. If she wanted a sphinx for herself she could have taken one. "There is an old hedge maze out back. It shouldn't take too many adjustments to make it homey enough for them."

"If you wanted a pet you could just adopt one that doesn't need to live in the back yard," she commented between sips.

"Oh, I don't live there."

 _Why in the hell did he tell her that?_ He calmed himself. Well obviously she knew that, her little ward thing had found him. _Then why did she suggest it._

"I've got a lot of things to arrange over the next few days," he stumbled out as he stood. His brain was muddled and he had to leave before he said something stupid. "You likely won't hear from me for awhile, definitely not for a few days. Try to avoid calling me until then."

"I wish I could help but-"

"As sweet as it is that you would choke down some polyjuice just to annoy me more, it's definitely for the best you don't. Last thing I need is people finding out I am associated with someone like you." He winced when her smile fell. He didn't mean it like that. Well he did, but he didn't mean for it to come out like that… hell, he needed sleep.

"What I meant was-"

"No it's fine. You're right. It's part of the deal no one knows about this right? Shoot me a message if you have any trouble," she responded icily calling forth some books from her shelves.

"Granger. Don't be a prissy-"

"Look, I don't care. Really. I have spent years ignoring your insults. It's nothing new for me. Here are some books to help ready their habitat. I will be wanting those back. So make your copies and don't spill anything on them."

Draco sighed. It was another fight for another day. He grabbed the books as they hovered in front of him.

"I'm sorry. I'm just tired okay? I didn't mean for it to come out… like that." He did mean it in general but she didn't need to know that.

"Careful Malfoy. If you start apologizing every time you insult me it'll become a habit," she quipped before turning her back and waving him away. The ribbon wrapped around her arm was unraveling and caught the dimming light in a shimmer. What was that about anyway? "Get out of my living room."

Taking his dismissal he stepped into the fireplace and let the flames overtake him and his books.

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Draco was tired. Arranging all the set up for the sphinxes in a timely matter was a huge effort. According to Theo it would all pay off once their new products released late next month, just in time for the holidays.

He had picked up the copy of the Daily Prophet that his assistants had been nagging him to read all morning. It was their job to inform him of any major going-on's in the world but they had been noticeably circumspect when shoving the paper in his hand. Quickly he flipped through the page. New election cycle to begin. Boysenberry boils, new dangerous fad sweeping the nations youth. Wriggling wire-root crop fails.

Seeing nothing of note he nearly threw the paper down. It was only reminding himself that Drizzella was very good at her job that kept him reading. The back pages of the paper were reserved for what was in his opinion nonsense. Ads, gossip stories, new and "interesting" stores opening. All of which had a bias towards young witches and new money.

He was only halfway paying attention as the last page flicked past. His own image confronted him, clearly directing some underling with a clip board.

_Who holds the heart of a Death Eater?: Rita Skeeter._

Of course it was that woman, when would she just do everyone a favor and die? He growled and tried to calculate if 2:30 was to early to start drinking. Figuring it best to rip the plaster off quickly he settled into his desk and began to read.

_Draco Malfoy has long since faded from these interesting pages I know you all die for. Even with my intricate source network, I have been at a loss for news._

"Psh, intricate source. Becoming an animagi is much simpler than setting up what she's hinting at." He scoffed out to no one in particular.

_But, in spite of the reformed bad boy's best attempts to thwart me, new activity surrounding his newly announced beauty line has lowered his defenses enough I was able to slip right in._

Clearly, as she had spent about half of her pathetic little column saying absolutely nothing.

_Here it is. Long time playboy, Draco Malfoy, has a girlfriend._

"Oh, do I?" he questioned aloud.

Now, Draco was no stranger to random news sources claiming the next Mrs. Malfoy was in the works. A few times he had even been caught in his flings, not that anyone could really blame him. Half the time it was the witches themselves who let it spill, looking for their moment on the stage. Mostly, out of amusement he continued to read.

_Now we know that Mr. Malfoy has spent the last few years breaking hearts. However, this one has surely snared him in a way unlike the rest. He reportedly taking days off multiple times a week to disappear for their rendezvous._

He would have to find that leak.

_He hasn't been seen with any other witch in so much as a month._

He had been busy.

_She is clearly a great beauty, guiding his spark of interest in the beauty market. And the smoking gun..._

Is this even considered journalism anymore?

_The silver time piece spotted on him early this month. A man known for being rarely seen, but surely never seen in the same thing twice has yet to take off the muggle watch since it had first been noticed. Now, one could say it's just speculation. But, dear readers, let's all face the facts. There is no way a known Death Eater would ever be seen sporting an inferior muggle object unless a woman was behind it. Maybe even a half-blood (perhaps why his mother moved to Italy?). We will be closely following this saga and reporting back to you as information appears. Feel free to owl us with any leads you may have, we uphold the most rigorous confidentiality._

Or blackmail. Draco inhaled sharply as he felt his migraine build. Of course all of it was nonsense, but he would have to make some plans to be seen with someone. Rumors drew attention, and attention drew inquires. Inquires dug out secrets and let them loose on the world. There was enough going on between Granger and his own life that he needed nothing else adding to it. Thankfully, Blaise's plan had worked and while the article was annoying it could loosely be considered positive. A few more weeks and no one would remark on the watch or him.

He quickly called up a quill and some parchment. One of Blaise's 'friends' was in town this week for a fashion show. She told semi-amusing stories and head turning legs. Which was exactly what he needed. The clock in the corner chimed darkly. His belated lunch was over and he hadn't even gotten to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Hey look Theo  
> -An exceptional young potioneer with a sharp eye for ingredients and rather remarkable known for being able to recreate any potion. He lacks Master status due to his distinct weakness of creativity. Perhaps one day when he's older. Shame about that nasty bit with the time turners though. 
> 
> Silly Sphinx  
> -Body of a lion head of a woman. Violent creatures entirely capable of thought and reason yet viciously slaughtered when they do their jobs. Native to Egypt they are frequent exported to well paying clients on the black market who have something to guard. Young ones are lack the wisdom of their elders making them less dangerous and easier to outwit. All female species.


	16. A Leap of Faith

She contemplated excuses as she crumpled the dried seaweed into the shaking cauldron. It floated briefly on the sky blue liquid before sinking in like sand. The color morphed into a deep sea green as the movement came to a halt. She carefully bottled up two pints and slipped them into her bag. She wanted to be upset. It was his recommendation of using dried for the extra salt to serve as a conversion scaffold. But he was right, and you just couldn't argue with it. A gentle vibration on her wrist served as notice.

**Now.**

She didn't bother responding but instead focused her magic into her mind. She had never gotten quite used to the feel of her magic. None of her classes had talked about it and none of her friends ever noticed it. Perhaps it was a side effect of being a muggleborn. To her it felt like velvet pooling under her skin. It was comforting and warm in a way that felt simultaneously powerful and like a hug.

With deep focus, she called the portkey to signal it's arrival time. The gentle hum faded from her mind as she started to get packed. To make things just a bit more fair, she quickly sent a message through on her bracelet. He should at least have a fighting chance.

_Bring trunks._

She hummed quietly to herself as she waited. After only a moment's pause she levitated over a packed lunch she had made for the both of them. If he didn't want it she could always eat it for supper.

A few minutes later Malfoy landed with a gentle thud in her living room. A pair of silk trunks in his hand and a somewhat bemused look on his face.

"Care to explain?" He questioned holding them up.

"I'd rather not. It's more fun this way." She responded, closing up her beaded bag. "Besides, the placebo effect could factor in and I would like to avoid that."

"So I am just supposed to trust you?" he questioned with one eyebrow raised. His hair was softly gelled back in the too-bothered-to-care way. With his arms crossed and the matching better-than-you smirk he looked perfect for her purposes today.

"Have I killed you yet?" 

"Despite your best efforts. At least tell me how we are traveling."

"You haven't even come close to my best efforts," she scoffed waving him over to the bathroom door tucked into the paneling next to her library. Her workspace didn't actually have the space or plumbing for a bathroom when she first started it and making one that didn't get in the way was near impossible. It took her a month of showering at the local gym, before she had finally finished. It was only detectable by a little knob on the wall next to her bookcase containing reference materials on dragons.

"A lightning bolt to the broom begs to differ," he responded. If he was curious he didn't show it.

"Please, a lightning strike? Utterly mundane. I am more creative than that."

She popped out the little latch and swung the door in revealing a fairly tall, if not a bit cramped bathroom. Her cast iron tub was more than deep enough to fit four people and held heat as well as some of her cauldrons. The porcelain was a bit rusted around the edges where she just hadn't bothered to refinish. It was placed in front of a large window looking out over the busy street below. Before Malfoy could actually try to make out any of the business names from where they stood she quickly ushered him over to the linen closet and opened the door for him, blocking the view.

"Pardon, I don't follow," he questioned, looking at her as if she had gone mad.

"It's a doorway. You walk through it." 

"It's a closet."

"No. A portal. Every time you open the door it opens a passageway to a preset place. Close the door, and you get a new one the next time. It's magic, obviously." She had run across the proper runes in an old castle ledger and it had taken her a lot of time to get it just right.

"Oh, it's a magic mirror. I have a few of these at the manor." He peered inside the closet, likely seeing nothing but perfectly folded towels and sheets. She was a bit disappointed, while she hadn't expected to be the first to create a portal like this she had hoped to be more remarkable than something you pick up at a rummage sale. "Can't manage to figure out how to change the locations though."

"The runes are probably set into it somewhere. I didn't want to use a mirror since they are metal and it would take ages to buff out and carve new ones. Mine are written in ink."

"I would question if you were sure this wouldn't kill me but you would probably just push me through anyway." He sighed and took a cautious step inside. "So I just keep walking? You aren't going to lock me in here are you?"

"I am too busy for practical jokes Malfoy. As deserving as the target is. Keep walking until you think you'll slam into that shelf in the back. You can stick out your hand if you want to, but it's just like King's Crossing. Once you're in, go." She stepped in behind him as he melted into what looked like a printed curtain. As soon as he disappeared the curtain fell back into place and it looked every bit like a linen closet again.

She herself always needed a running start. It was never something she got used to, to dive head first into a solid object and come out somewhere else. Gearing up she half jumped through the illusion and was greeted by an uproarious crash. Ocean spray tickled against her face as the sun screamed into her eyes. It smelled clean and open.

"An interesting vacation spot Granger. Although I can't imagine many attractions exist on a hunk of rock in the middle of nowhere." She turned to find Malfoy a good distance away from the cliff edge they ported onto. He had already started to saunter down the trail, leaving her scrambling to catch up.

"Don't try to lead, you don't know where we are going," she huffed indignantly as she fell into step beside him.

"There's one trail down from this cliff, unless you have us diving into the sea, I think I can figure it out," he commented but did slow his pace to match hers. Hermione greatly enjoyed the breeze that tickled across her skin as they marched in silence. The grass slowly wore away as it faded into the cliff face and their walkway became a stone outcrop more than a path. If Draco was afraid of heights he said nothing as she took point, guiding them down towards the ocean. The incline wasn't horridly steep and it had plenty of room for a person, but she still made a point not to look down on the sharp rocks below.

Finally the rocks leveled out about midway down. The path ended at the entrance to a large cave with two huge rocks flanking either side. Hermione blinked away the fuzz that was forming around her brain as she marched forward. Her wrist stung sharply and she glanced over to see Draco still staring at the entrance before glancing wistfully at the sea. He took a step.

"Oh come on." She stomped back to grab his wrist before dragging him forward. She had forgotten about the repelling charm but honestly. If he decided to throw himself from the cliff it would be a major inconvenience.

"Ow." Draco shook his head and blinked rapidly. "That hurt. By The Book, that's old magic. What on earth is in here?"

"Oh you know, treasure beyond belief. Secrets untold. Yada yada." The light from behind them faded and a new light shone down the brightness of the tunnel. Thankfully she heard only giggling coming from it, it wasn't always so benign.

"You'd be surprised what I can believe."

"Must you be such a contrarian. We're here."

They broke into the light to reveal deep blue lagoon, sheltered by jagged rocks on either side, dripping with vines and flowers. A waterfall crashed into the otherwise smooth surface of the water, causing it to shimmer like glitter in the sun. In the center little stacks of stone floated at varying heights, catching the light. And on those rocks…

"Are those Merfolk?" Draco questioned at a whisper from their position above the lagoon. It was a smooth landing that had a net of overgrown ivy on it, making a fairly thick carpet.

"What else would they be?" She responded at a normal volume. Of course they had already been noticed, a whisper wasn't going to hide anything. Instead she called out to them. Mermaids did not like feeling like they were being peeped on. "Hello!"

The blond one with a deep ruby tail that faded into light golden fins pulled herself up from her sunning position. Her golden hair filled back to reveal deep green eyes that Hermione could spot even from here. Oh, good. Delta was here today. Fen was much harder to deal with, and much more viscous.

"Uh, Granger?" Draco questioned in a low voice as she peeled out of her outer robes. She hadn't wanted to waste magic transfiguring things around such, admittedly, temperamental creatures so she just wore her suit underneath. She slipped her wand into a skin tight leather holster over her right forearm. "What are you doing?"

"Jumping in. Don't worry it's deep enough." She removed her bag from her cloak and looped it around her neck. _She had updated that waterproof charm last week right?_

"Merfolk are sort of… deadly aren't they?"

"Depends on their mood," Hermione reasoned disappointed to see Draco had not moved from his spot. "We are in the Mediterranean, a bit south of Greece. They are much more relaxed here. It's very rare for them to kill anyone."

Hermione stretched and assessed where the best landing position would be. Sure the water was deep enough everywhere, but splashing the wrong mermaid could certainly put them in a more maim-y mood.

"And you are, from the look of things, about to dive into a pond infested with them with nothing more than your wand and a dream?"

"Yes. Now please wait until I am safely in the water before getting undressed. Also step a bit back into the cave. I may not want to see that but some of these girls have never actually seen a man before and you don't want to be dead before you surface. Bye." With that she took a running leap and sailed over the cliffs edge into the deep pool below.

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When she came up for air she was met by a fit of giggling and cursing. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed a rather angry Draco leaning over the edge.

"Well come on you coward." She shouted back at him before paddling over to Delta. A string of curses and rustling of clothes preceded him.

"Oooo, I see you have brought us a man Hermione. What have we done to curate such favor?" Delta questioned as she lounged on the tallest rock. She flicked her tail back and forth across the top of the water leaving small wakes in the ripples. Her tail faded into her stomach gradually and her rock hard scales morphed into gently tanned human skin. Her willowy arms could easily be mistaken for weak, however, if her razor sharp claws ever got a hold of you in the water you were never coming back up.

"Oh just your charm. Please don't kill him before we get the testing done. It would take forever to find someone else." When the matron nodded at her she patted the rock to the right of her tail. Hermione accepted the invitation and primly pulled herself up the back of the rock. She didn't have the advantage to just launch herself out of the water but thankfully barnacles grew all along the edge giving her purchase. She had just settled in as the other mermaids began to congregate around them.

"So… just in then?" Draco questioned pulling everyone's attention upward. He looked more than a little pale next to the gray and green of the walls. Hermione couldn't blame him. Never mind the mermaids, the first time she made that jump was sheer terror with no time to scream.

"Yes. Try not to splash anyone." It was hardly a concern as most of Delta's subjects had gathered around her already.

"And they aren't going to…" Draco trailed off. Hermione was grateful the women around her met it with a tittering of giggles.

"We are not going to eat you pale-one," Delta called indulging. She ended the statement with a wink. "Unless you ask nicely."

Her amused tone set off another wave of giggles. Suddenly Draco was soaring over the edge and through the air. As a matter of fact it looked like he was about to land too cl-

A round of high pitched screams shot up as the waves settled down. Hermione wiped the sea water from her eyes and glared at Draco who had surfaced and was happily floating on his back.

"So sorry, I have bad aim." He shot Delta a winning smile and much to Hermione's chagrin she chuckled deeply.

"My, aren't you interesting. You may have that one, as it amused me. Refrain from it in the future." Delta pushed her hair back, shaking out the remaining droplets. Hermione felt the surge of magic as Delta let it fall. "Or you may find you have no desire to ever return home."

Draco had begun slowly swimming towards her with a glassy look in his eyes. As soon as she stopped her magic flow he stopped abruptly and cursed.

"Maybe you shouldn't be playing with the mermaids Draco. At least not while you're in the water," Hermione warned as a younger girl swam up from under him. Her glittering green tail grazed his ankle and he jumped in response.

"Oh fine, fine," he responded before resuming his float. "I was just having a bit of fun. It's not every day you get to be surrounded by so many beautiful women at once. Oh, of course you're here too Granger."

Delta smiled as the girls around her tittered at the barb as much as the compliment. Mermaids were vain and catty, a perfect target for Malfoy's brand of charm.

"He is indeed unique. Wherever did you find him?" Delta questioned rolling on her stomach.

"Shop in Delhi. But we used to go to school together."

"Ah yes. School." Delta's green eyes were latched on to Draco as he floated by a girl with a blue tail and dark curled hair. She cautiously reached out to stroke his hair and he winked in response, launching her off the rock and into the water below with a quiet peep. "The little ones have been complaining to me nonstop about having to attend."

"I know, but it's important. They'll see the use later," Hermione supplied wringing out her hair. When Delta did it, it was like diamonds falling from the sky. Hermione looked like she was doing laundry. _How come she could never get that right?_

"I see use for it now. My youngest, Alana, has already found a suitable prince from the Baltic Sea kingdom." She watched Draco as the other woman surrounded him experimentally touching his legs and feet. He didn't seem to mind too much and was drifting along as if he did this every day.

"School isn't for dating Delta," she chided lightly. Of course they would turn it into a political game. This is why witches and wizards swore off monarchies a long time ago.

"It's so hard to find a good match. Let alone someone she won't hate. Besides, the Baltic Sea is rich and warm. It will remind her of home." They both watched the carnival below as Draco demonstrated his ability to scissor his legs and climb. The girls took turns racing him up the sunning rocks before one eventually just launched herself up to beat him.

"Alright, leave the new toy alone. We have work to do. Cordelia, this is your show. Come handle it, this tires me." With that Delta dove into the water and away in its depths.

She recognized Cordelia by her deep black tail. Her soft pink hair was cropped stunningly short and her bright black eyes glistened with defiance and excitement. She was certainly not the sultry, graceful goddesses of the sea that her sisters were. She looked more like a hell cat ready to rip your skin off, but will make sure you come away with a story while doing it.

"How are we going to do this Hermione?" she questioned lightly. In spite of her looks Cordelia was a huge softy. As a matter of fact, it was her that introduced Hermione to the rest of the clan when she found out Hermione could help.

"Well you aunt has clearly shown he's not immune for some reason," she mused from her rock. "I would start with the one for you and then move on to the one for him."

"One of what?" Draco questioned as he drug himself up next to Hermione.

"Tincture. An anti-siren song sort of thing," she responded fishing out her bottle. She uncorked the burnt orange ceramic and settled it in her lap.

"What's in it?" 

"A strange mix of amortentia and mandrake roots. If I am correct it should cancel out the musical magic and prevent yourself from throwing yourself off this rock."

"Hm, okay. Are you not doing a control?" he questioned leaning back on the stone. The water dripped from his hair and splashed into little puddles on the surface, tickling against Hermione's thigh.

"Well we figured since the Queen barely used any magic and had you reduced to pudding you weren't immune. Do you want to drown?"

"What man wouldn't take the opportunity to hear a siren's song?" he questioned and shot the collection of mermaids a grin that made them giggle. "Plus it's just bad fundamentals not to."

"Okay, if you insist." Hermione glanced at Cordelia. "Are you ready? I'll catch the knob."

"Catch me? What do you-" Cordelia began to sing from the water and Malfoy's eyes glossed over yet again. The notes were honestly beautiful, even to her. They moved lazily through the air, pitching in time with an unheard melody. Malfoy swung his head lazily to follow the sound and Hermione reached out locking her arms around his torso, pulling his back closer. She quickly slid her legs into a lock around his hips just as he tried to push off the rock mindlessly to where he would have certainly injured something on the way down. When he began fighting too strongly Hermione met eyes with Cordelia and signaled to stop. Immediately the toned sounds died out and his body relaxed. She began to unwind herself from him as he shook his head.

"That was… that was beautiful. It sounded like… a lullaby. One my mother used to sing to me." He stared off into the wall as Hermione settled behind him, grabbing the bottle.

"They say Siren Song is the most beautiful sound in the world. But no one agrees on what it sounds like. I'm a woman so it doesn't call to me but I still hear it."

"I've been told it also sounds like honey on a lute," A blue head supplied from nearby.

"You haven't seen a human since the Ming dynasty. How would you even know?" The bickering continued as Malfoy recovered slightly.

"Okay Cordelia, please take a pull of this." She levitated the potion to the pink haired mermaid who swallowed a mouthful and recorked it.

"Ugh, taste like…. Kelp, and sea slugs. Gross." She spat out while making a face.

"We it doesn't make sense for something degenerative to taste pretty does it?" Hermione questioned with a laugh. Abruptly she intertwined her arms around Malfoy who jumped in response.

Immediately Cordelia began to sing, the same string of notes as before. Certainly beautiful, but not walk out into the ocean in the middle of the night beautiful. Malfoy had tensed for the first few moments but then eventually relaxed. Hermione remained pressed to his back, just in case he had a change of heart.

Eventually Cordelia's song ended and Hermione pulled back to sit on her ankles.

"That was beautiful Miss Cordelia. And Granger, I know you want me. But keep your hands to yourself, please. One would figure you had learned control by this point."

"I should have let you fall. Maybe a hard crack on the head is what your personality needs," she fired back, kicking him off the edge. He floundered gracelessly into the water while she smiled smugly. When he came back for air she was wringing out her hair artfully surrounded by giggling. She was getting better.

"You gormless, insolent, bint of a woman," he spat through mouthfuls of sea water. Hermione was still laughing as he yanked her ankle harshly, pulling her into the water. She cut off her screech in time to close her mouth and when she came back up Malfoy was smugly floating next to her.

"You absolute BASTARD!" She immediately threw all her weight into her hands and placed them on his shoulders, forcing him under. She wasn't intending to drown him but accidents do happen. Maybe she was spending too much time with the sirens.

Eventually they were pulled apart, Hermione by Cordelia and Draco by the Black haired one from earlier.

"You would have made a great mermaid Hermione. I think you may have killed him if left alone." Cordelia giggled behind her. Somewhat ashamed of herself she pushed off toward where the thankfully stoppered potion floated while coughing water out of her throat.

"And the world would be better for it."

"Sure it would," Draco coughed glumly behind her. "Must I remind you that if you killed me, and I doubt that you could have, you would also be dead."

She pulled herself up on the rock first, planting herself firmly on the edge. Feeling very much like a scolded child she offered her hand to Draco who surprisingly took it, and pulled him up. After a moment to catch their breath she offered him the bottle.

"Why Granger, I was unaware you were a fan. While I am an excellent singer I am certainly not on par with these lovely creatures."

"No you idiot. It should work in the same way to make you immune to all Siren Song," she said as he took the bottle. With a shrug he took a pull from the bottle, gagging a bit.

"Taste like, butterbeer,and ugh. What is that? It tastes like a smell. Oh that's horrid," he spat off to the side while shaking his head.

"Need I explain things twice?" Hermione questioned begrudgingly. She knew it tasted bad but honestly was effectiveness not more important? Also who hates butterbeer.

"Ugh fine. Okay I am ready," he growled out as Hermione reached out her arms. "Granger. Don't even think about it."

"Fine, if you crack your head open don't blame me." She laid back perfectly content to let come what may.

At first the song started quietly from a mermaid near the walls. Like a tinkling that just barely could be heard over the waterfall. It layered and built into a song that reminded her of rain on windows, and bacon cooking in the kitchen, with a dull murmuring of the TV in the background. She felt warm, she felt safe, she felt at home. As quickly as it had started the song ended and she set up to examine the damage. Draco was still on the rock next to her staring at the sky. All of the mermaids watched in anticipation as she poked him in the side.

"Malfoy? You alive?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just...fine." Clearly seeing him respond, the girls immediately broke off into groups, gossiping and chatting. Cordelia swam up as Hermione handed off the extra bottle from her bag.

"I'll work on the taste and send off some more to your Aunt in the coming weeks." She still felt a bit hollow inside. Like she had been filled with an overwhelming melancholy.

"Are you okay Hermione? You're crying," the mermaid asked from the water, her hand touching Hermione's.

"Fine, it's just the salt."

"Okay." Cordelia nodded. Hermione knew she didn't believe her but they knew when not to push. Mermaids tended to be quite selfish anyway.

She and Malfoy stayed for a bit to do a bit more testing and to basically lounge in the sun for a while. He did end up taking her offered Chicken sandwich with a grimace. She deserved the break. The last few months have been hectic. After adding him to the mix, she had her hands full. It was only a few weeks until Halloween now.

Eventually Delta returned with sacs of mother-of-pearl and meramidweed, straight from the source, where only the beauties of the sea could truly reach. They were waved off as the sun set and scaled the vine wall to their landing. Hermione, sun weary and salt drenched, just loosely layered her robes over her shoulders before exiting the lagoon. Her and Malfoy walked in silence until they left the cave and began ascending the ocean side of the cliff.

"Why would they want a potion that makes their magic stop working?" Malfoy questioned as they climbed.

"The oceans are getting smaller and more cut off. Every year fewer and fewer new homes open up for the young merfolk to live in. There aren't many beasts or wars anymore to cull numbers. So a few of the next generation have decided to make a go of it on land. They spend most of their time on land, with a partner usually. They return to the sea every few months to retain their magic but otherwise settle into muggle society. Part of that means sealing away the magic of their voice."

"So Cordelia has a boyfriend? I feel bad for flirting with her then," he huffed out as they arrived at the top.

"No," Hermione laughed at the thought. "Cordelia is in an all girls punk band. She was the one who started the idea because she wanted to travel the world and play with them. But her voice would have outed her eventually."

"Women are strange," he remarked shaking his head. Hermione considered admonishing him for it but at least he was thinking of merfolk as humans, not magical creatures. It was a step in the right direction.

"Well mermaids are, at least. Let's go back."

0000000

Draco was stiffly knotting the tie around his neck when his pocket shook three times. Quite in shock, he glanced at his watch waiting for a message. Their last visit was only two days prior and he could still feel the salt in his good shoes.

_Now._

**What do you mean now? I have plans.**

There was no other response. He quickly slid on his jacket, glancing at the time. He had about 15 minutes before he was supposed to be at the Cat Lounge and his date was not a patient woman.

A quick shake in his pocket seemed to indicate he didn't have much say. He leaned into the familiar pull hoping that whatever was going on it would be quick.

"Quickly Granger. I have a schedule to keep," he lectured as soon as his perfectly polished shoes tapped on her floor. The witch in question was madly running around her apartment grabbing vials and bags.

"Finally. I hope you're ready to go. We have… Dear god… Three minutes." she squeaked, tossing her armful of items into a bag much too small to contain them. They quickly fell in, clearly under some sort of expansion charm.

"No we don't because we aren't going anywhere. I thought we agreed you would only call me if things were dire." He responded, crossing his arms in annoyance. The clock was nearing ten til.

"This is dire. The Pitchersplat plant only blooms once every 10 years. IF we don't leave now we will miss our chance. Are you ready?" she responded, finally looking up at him. "Oh, you look. Nice. Very nice. You should change that, it won't serve you well in the rainforest."

She sounded almost sincere, which irked Draco immensely. Pitchersplat was a highly dangerous and volatile plant. One bump would send up a plume of pollen that could kill a grown dragon. Add in the fact that they moved of their own violation and you had a recipe for disaster. It was hardly worth it considering the synthetic was nearly as good and the only potions it went in were related to bad breath. Not something he had any interest in dealing with even on a good night

"I would suppose not, considering I am not going. I have a date tonight and I don't plan on cancelling so you can go chase some poisonous flower that will likely get us both killed." He didn't care what the vow said, he wasn't going.

"Oh, who cares what irrelevant witch you are wooing tonight," she replied flippantly. "This is a once in a decade event. You cannot possibly expect-"

"Pardon. Irrelevant? I am sorry, I was unaware you were my match maker."

"Don't be like that. All I am saying is some passing fancy is hardly a reason to miss out on this," she chided with a soft smile.

"Right. A passing fancy. Right. Well on that insulting note-" He turned to make his way towards the floo.

"Face it. Anyone witch that wants to get close to you is only interested in your money or just oblivious. I mean honestly, what kind of good woman is okay with someone of your past?" Malfoy was shocked, that had completely come out of the blue. Taking his silence as some sort of invitation to expand, she tried to back pedal. "It's not that a good witch wouldn't _want_ to be involved with you, they just wouldn't want anything long term. Or public. Or-"

"How dare you," he interrupted. She knew nothing about him or his life. She had no credibility to be making any assumptions. She hadn't even been seen in five bedamned years. "Who are you to make judgement about who I see? Seriously. I have a life that you can't just go interrupting every time you want someone to trail behind you like a fan club."

"Come on, Draco," Hermione said with a condescending smile. He hated the way she said his name. "We both know what kind of woman you spend time with, and what kind would spend time with you."

"You know what," he growled, ripping out the portkey and tossing it violently on the floor. "No. I don't care and I am not going. Fuck off and die out there. It will just make my life easier."

He was so damn sick of her thinking he was a desperate puppy she could just beckon forth. He had thought she was actually starting to respect his personhood but apparently not. If she wanted to shoot low so would he. "I'm not your slave, I'm not your friend, and I'm not coming to whatever cock-up you've dreamed of this time. Find some other sop to traipse around the jungle with you. Maybe someone as equally muddy would have no issues getting so filthy as to associate with you."

The portkey clattered to her feet and the room was silent for a moment. The comforting sounds of a cauldron brewing sounded out of place next to his anger. Hermione's eyes were wide and her body frozen in shock.

"Fine," she finally responded, jumping into movement. "Leave. Get out. Go on your sleazy tryst. Pardon me for thinking to include you in this. As a matter of fact pardon me for thinking for even a second you weren't the cold-hearted, wicked, spoiled brat that you are and giving you half a chance to pretend to be a real human. Go have fun prancing around London, I have serious work to get done and don't have space for insolent children."

"Brat?" he questioned with venom. He took a step forward and drew his wand, ready to fight. "Children. Like you weren't the one just disparaging me or my date who you don't even _know_. I swear on Merlin's beard-"

" _Expluso,_ " Draco hadn't even seen Hermione's wand before it was in her hand. The spell hit him like a wall, pausing everything in time for just a split second. His eyes met hers and for as crudely as her words had slammed into him, his had struck her with gutting precision. Suddenly he was forced violently back and his sight blurred. His vision spotted as his head cracked against a cold stone wall. He had been deposited in an alley just off well-lit street.

He rubbed his head angrily, somewhat surprised there was no blood. Merlin, why did she have to be so infuriating. And judgmental. And bossy. And cynical. And - And-... And fucking right.

He let out an angry groan and headed for the street, not intent on thinking such distasteful thoughts right before… well one of his insignificant, sleazy tryst. He glanced at the dial on Hermione's watch. He was now 3 minutes late and there would likely be some repercussions from that. Regardless he pulled out his wand, focusing on the Cat Lounge. Partially to drown himself in vices, partially to silence the small voice in the back of his mind saying that he should apologize.

0000000000

_How dare he?!? The absolute nerve. To think that she has begun to consider him as a real human with functional emotions. Well that will teach her._

Hermione ripped another blossom off the Pitchersplat near her and shoved it in her bag. She was wearing a cloth mask but her eyes were still at risk of any serious pollen clouds. She was moving in as much of a line as she could, hopefully reducing the chance of an accidental ejection. She was seriously at risk not having a spotter to keep an eye on her back, but Neville and Luna were unreachable and Malfoy clearly valued 5 minutes of effort and disappointment over a rather rare ingredient. Not to mention her life.

 _You just have to go around seeing the best in people. You just have to give everyone a second chance. Well he doesn't fucking deserve it,_ she told herself as she hacked her way through a tough vine in front of her and stomped forward. As her anger wore away she was deeply offended to notice it being replaced by hurt. She couldn't be hurt, if she was hurt that meant she actually had valued his opinion.

_No. I refuse. The man is a waste of space and I regret ever meeting him again. You know what? I regret ever meeting him at all. The world would be no less than three thousand times better without Draco Malfoy in it._

But of course she couldn't refuse. The fact of the matter was that Malfoy was indeed a highly skilled Potion Master. He was clever, witty, and presented a different perspective to things she would have never considered. In the past two months he had proven invaluable, even if he was insufferable. His background in alchemy had opened a whole new world of techniques she had not considered which she really needed to ask him more about. To be quite honest with herself, she was having more fun that she had had in years.

His questioning of her skills made her a better chemist. Having him as an excuse made visiting old contacts easier. Even the barbs and insults had presented a familiar challenge she longed for.

_Perhaps I should apologize... Wait! No! I did nothing wrong._

But did she? I mean he was right in a sense. She did absolutely pick him up with no notice intending to drag him into a dangerous and uncomfortable scenario. Before she had activated the portkey she hadn't even gotten a response to her message.

It was that moment that Hermione realized that she had not actually sent the message until afterwards. She was, in fact, calling him without consideration to his life. Very much like he was a toy that she could just pull off the shelf when she wanted to play.

Her cheeks warmed with shame. She hated always having to be the bigger person. She was sure his date was a perfectly nice witch too. That was a wholly unnecessary assumption she shouldn't be making about anyone. Why did she feel the need to say that?

Hermione was so immensely wrapped up in her thoughts she had completely missed the Pitchersplat bloom sneaking up behind her. When she turned around to start a new section, she bumped it, setting off a cloud right into her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magic Mirrors and Closed Closets-
> 
> Both objects serve as a very old form of travel magic. Quickly discarded in modern times by their limited use, their single pathways settled into disuse. Destinations can be changed based on the runes carved directly onto the frame, linking it with identical runes elsewhere. These runes must have been carved into the doorway before linkage can occur.
> 
> Mermaid Messes-
> 
> Mermaids of the Mediterranean breed are lovely humanoid creatures that are known for their sweet voices. These voices have called sailors to their deaths in the past when you mermaids haven't learned to control their song. Each sea has their own kingdoms with a heirarchy generally ruled by the females. They tend not to associate with their fresh water cousins, thinking that they are limit by their small water ways.
> 
> Syrup of Silent Song-
> 
> Counteracts the effects of mermaid songs by replacing the beautiful song with one that processes as the inverse of the usually happy memories that mermaids draw sailors in with. It takes on the flavor of your least favorite senses. In Malfoy's view this was the taste of butter beer and oddly enough the way death smells.


	17. A Lesson Learned

A hard thunk echoed in her workshop. It took a solid 5 seconds for her brain to register that it was her own body that had made the sound. It was hard to feel anything over the overwhelming panic rising in her throat. She was going to die and her body was desperately trying anything to prevent it. Her lungs felt heavy, like they had concrete poured in them and were beginning to set.

It had taken nearly all of her magic to get back and an emergency recall charm she rarely used. She couldn’t even form a patronus to send to anyone. She would die on her workshop floor alone and the only person who would know would be Draco god-damned Malfoy.

A blur of orange tripped a signal in her brain.

“Crookshanks. Help.” The cat brushed his face against her hand. “Floo.”

It was her last chance. The too smart, too long lived cat followed her instructions trotting to the floo and standing expectantly. With the barest hint of her remaining magic she willed the floo powder container to tip over, dusting her orange cat black. He strode into the fireplace with a meow as she barely breathed out “Malfoy’s flat” before losing consciousness.

0000000000000000000000

Drinks with Pansy were about as noxious as you would expect. She was vain, loud, and loved herself more than anything else on the planet. It made her a good partner in crime when he needed something to throw off the media. He had figured the will-they-won’t-they story would have gotten old after a few iterations but the papers still loved it. Paired with his dinner earlier last week there would be no doubt the ever elusive Draco Malfoy remained unattached. Fuck what Granger thought, he wouldn’t have even had to do this if it weren’t for her. He could be out with Theo and Blaise right now.

He never felt bad for using Pansy, she used him just as much. She was living her best life as a socialite and fashion icon. A known playboy hanging off her arm just contributed to her vixen image.

The witch in question released his arm as he fiddled with the door key. He hadn’t really wanted to bring her home but she had threatened an absolute scene for him being late and only a bottle of his best wine could bribe her into silence. It wasn’t that big of a deal since it was the weekend but he would have to make sure she was gone before the guys swung by in the morning. On days where she wasn’t, he often woke up to screaming. And not the good kind.

The door unlatched and she strode in like she owned the place, a charcoal outline against a midnight backdrop. He willed on the lights as she immediately began to weave her way to the kitchen. Her too-tall heels clicked on the flooring and her white blouse was blazing in his dark apartment. Her dark hair was half up and half down in a chaotic way that warned you she was just as much of a mess.

“Mrrrow?” Draco jumped as a black and red cat jumped on the arm of Blaise’s favorite recliner.

“I didn’t know you got a cat,” Pansy said as she wandered over with a bottle in hand. “What’s his name?”

“I have no idea? I haven’t ever seen this animal.” He stared perplexed at the creature that was pawing the air near him.

“Merowwwwww!” Pansy giggled and reached in to pet it.

“Aw well he knows, you. What a cute boy. Oh you’re so dirty! Is that soot? Draco, did he come down your chimney?” Pansy questioned scratching the creature's neck as it continued to yowl.

“The floo?” he suggested. This was an off day for him.

“Crookshanks. That’s a weird name, let’s call you Reggie instead. Would you like that?”

“Wait, that’s Crookshanks?” he questioned.

“Do you know him?” Pansy questioned taking another pull from her wine and collapsing on his couch.

“Yeah he belongs to… a friend. I don’t know why he’s here though.”

“Better return him. Don’t want him ruining our fun.” She supplied with a wink.

“I’m not sure what the floo address is,” he admitted, scratching the panicked cat on his back. He briefly wondered if animals could accidentally use the floo system. Maybe the cat had wanted him to scratch it and wandered too close to some powder and then _poof_.

“His tag? I thought I saw something else on the back.”

Draco flipped the collar, struggling to read the embossed metal.

_Careful I bite. If found please return via floo to Rowana’s Cell, London England._

With that the cat immediately leapt off the chair and bounded over to the floo, sitting in it’s ashes.

“I’ll be right back Pansy. I need to take him home,” he called out grabbing a handful of powder, doubting that this would work.

“It’ll cost you another bottle. Don't worry, I'll pour it myself.”

“Rowana’s cell,” he whispered. The green flames jumped up covering him and the cat. As they retreated they revealed a dark room without even the cauldron fire lit.

“Granger?” he questioned as the cat jumped into the darkness. His job was done, the cat was returned. He could easily head back to his apartment where wine and a beautiful woman awaited him. Yet something felt… off.

“Swot?” He cautiously took a step forward as he fumbled for his wand.

“Hermione?” He foot nudged against something that wasn’t usually there as he finally got a decent grip. “Lumos”

His gasp sliced through the room as Hermione’s crumbled form lay stark white against the floor. Her black robes were jarring against the pallor of her skin. Her eyes were closed and for a moment, he thought she was dead and his brain nearly slipped out of his body.

It was only her rapid shallow breathing that kept him grounded.

“MMMMMRRRROWWWW!” The meow shook him into action. Flipping her over it was very obvious what had happened. She had been hit by the damn Pitchersplat. He couldn’t believe she was stupid enough to still go alone.

There was time to yell at her later. He needed a dissolution draught, her lungs were probably rock solid by now. He glanced around the barely lit room and cursed violently. He had no idea where anything was. She sorted things like a drunk toddler. It could be in the bathroom or under her bed for all he knew.

Draco hauled her onto his back, jostling her around his shoulders. Her cheek that lay against the back of his neck was ice cold. He stumbled toward the floo, knocking a bit of powder down as he called out for his place.

The flames granted them a rough landing onto his living room carpet.

“Woah… Uh, I’m not really into that Draco,” Pansy supplied from where she scrambled up from the couch.

“Leave,” he huffed out, trying to gather up Hermione’s form while still keeping her face properly covered. For once her hair had actually come in handy.

“Rude,” she spat but nonetheless headed for the door. One of Pansy’s redeeming qualities was that she had no interest in things when they got complicated. “I don’t know what’s going on Draco. But please be careful with... Whatever it is. I was the last one to see you and do not make a good alibi.”

The door slammed behind her just as Draco had caught his footing and a better grip under Hermione's legs.

“Pinky!” He was gratefully met with a crack and the, for once, non-hysteric house elf.

“Sir.”

“Start the cauldron in my workshop. Get the water boiling as fast as you can. Also get a bed in there.” He hefted the girl towards his workshop, trying to avoid hitting anything on the furniture.

“Which bed-”

“Whichever! Now, Pinky!” The house elf was gone by the time he reached the door as it slid open. He hoped to every magical source on the planet he could fix this.

00000

Hermione woke in a haze. Her body was heavy and every breath took far too much effort. The scent of rosemary and lavender surrounded her in a silk cocoon. It was almost enough to make her want to go back to sleep.

However, the longer she remained aware the more her body remembered what had led to her nap. She urged her eyes to open, feeling like she needed a crow bar. Slowly they creaked open, revealing a thin line of flickering light against a dark background. Slowly the room came into focus and she found herself staring up at a large black canopy, covering an obstinate and unfamiliar large four poster bed.

With a groan she rolled to her side, every breath feeling like cracking clay. Her first glance around the room showed her in a library of some sort. Books were neatly sorted and stacked into pleasing rows and lined the walls on every inch barring the window. There was indeed a fire, crackling along happily, outlining a large oak desk. The lump of robes sitting in the chair shifted. A pale blonde head emerged from the fabric with dull silver eyes meeting hers.

“Morning Granger. Hope you enjoyed stealing my bed,” he groaned out as he straightened. “I know they say to honor the house guest but this seems to be pushing it.”

“Did you sleep there last night?” Hermione's voice came out as a cracked whisper, barely audible among the heavy silk sheets.

“Yes, because my sleeping habits are the concern here.” Draco pushed off the desk and grabbed a flagon from its surface before walking over to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What is-” she started before he cut her off.

“Shut up.” His hand rested on her chest, right below her diaphragm and he closed his eyes. “Just breath, deeply as you can but don’t push it.”

Not seeing much else to do Hermione obliged, attempting to take bigger inhales, stopping when pain would shoot through her lungs. After a few moments he spoke again.

“Well, no lethal damage. I am not sure how bad or if what is left will heal though.” He removed his hand slowly. The whole situation was so gentle that it felt deeply uncomfortable.

“Did Croo-anks-”

“Yes he found my living room and dragged me to your hovel. Honestly Granger, going off alone after a Pitchersplat. How stupid can you be? Even new graduates know better. Drink this.” The flagon was thrust toward her lips and her options were drink or drown. Not that she wouldn’t have taken it anyway, maybe just after a cursory sniff. Nearly immediately she could feel her lungs crack and she began to cough.

“This is not going to be pretty, cough into this.” He slid her a long bolt of plain black silk into her hand just as powder began to erupt from her in clouds. Her arms regained movement and shot to cover her mouth as she threw herself forward, racked in pain. Most of the dust was contained in the magic-dampening silk but little tendrils escaped floating into her eyes and mirroring the burning pain from her throat.

A few minutes later when she had finally stopped, she registered the comforting hand on her back. With watery eyes she turned to Malfoy on her right, looking stiffly away as he rubbed her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she offered experimentally. Speaking hurt much less and was closer to the pain of waking up with a sore throat. “That was very fast acting. Most dissolution draughts take much longer.”

“I find people with kidney stones don’t frequently like to wait long,” he supplied quietly before pulling the silk from her hand and tying it up into a sack. “Let me know when you are feeling more stable so I can yell at you.”

“Why not take me when I am weak?” Hermione sighed leaning back on the pillows. They were overstuffed with down and sinking into them felt like sinking into water.

“There is no sport in that. At least you aren’t totally useless.” He gestured to the pouch as he stood and placed it on his desk. “Fossilized tissue is pretty hard to come by.”

“Glad to be of service,” she breathed as she stared at the ceiling. Every muscle in her body felt overworked and underfed, like she had run a marathon at near starvation. She had resolved to pretend to sleep until he left but after just a few minutes of awkward silence she had figured he would not be leaving anytime soon. Best just to rip the band-aid.

“Alright go ahead.”

“Honestly, Granger,” he sighed, leaning on his desk.

“That’s the best you've got?”

“Pardon my lack of enthusiasm. It is difficult to be witty when one hasn’t slept. Besides, whatever is twisting around in that wild mane of hair is likely more damaging than anything I can produce.”

He was inarguably, disgustingly right. As she lay dying on her living room floor she cursed herself for being so stupid. She knew it was dangerous and something she couldn’t handle alone. But the fact of the matter was that no one else was available. She had made no preemptive plans since she figured Draco was going to be there. Her last dying thought was to send Crookshanks to someone who would recognize him and hopefully take care of him. Not that he would somehow lead the boy back.

“I’m sorry. I ruined your date and inconvenienced you.”

“That’s an understatement,” he muttered as he rubbed his temples. “I just don't understand why you didn’t drag Potter or Weasley along? Hell, even Longbottom was a reasonable choice. The dissolution drought could have been administered immediately.”

“Situations are complex Draco. I made a stupid mistake, that’s all,” she breathed out in defeat. She really was just far too tired to fight, whereas Draco looked like he had been waiting to pull the trigger for ages.

“That’s rich coming from you,” he scoffed, stormy eyes threatening a challenge.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He looked tired, dark circles stood out against his pale skin and beneath his anger his eyes were clearly bloodshot.

“Complex? Please. You don’t deign to grant the world complexity.”

“Of course I do!” She managed to sound indigent in spite of the pain that bloomed in her chest. Blood tickled at the back of her throat but she ignored it.

“Hardly. I would say you are a much more black and white person than you let on,” he scoffed, pinning her with a vicious look.

“I would never-”

“You’ve been treating me like an absolute evil since we’ve met. Over our childish interactions in the past. I think it’s generous to consider that anything past surface.”

“I think it’s generous to consider those childish interactions,” she spat out with as much venom as she could muster.

“And I think you grip too tightly to the past to objectively see the present. I clearly have no interest in hurting you or I would have left you to rot on your workshop floor,” he shot back logically. Leave it to Draco to turn an accident into a personal failing.

“I had no idea the consequences of your actions bothered you so much. Should I call your mum and have her come comfort you?” He stiffened and scowled. They stared at each other in silence as the fire crackled in the background. To her surprise it was him who gave in first, running his hand through his hair.

“I am just sick to death of being the villain in a war that has already been lost.” He leaned on his desk tiredly, glancing up at the ceiling. When his body released the tension and he looked… well he looked deflated. He looked like a man home from a hard day’s work with nothing to show for it but a day of age and an empty pocket.

Immediately Hermione felt guilty. She was quick to anger, she knew that. But anger around Draco was so natural. It was like water to a mermaid, simply a state of being. Now that he looked so pathetically miserable she felt like she had taken a cheap shot somehow. And maybe she had; he was right. It’s not like she actually knew anything about him, not really.

“I… I didn’t think that actually weighed on you,” she managed to murmur in response.

“Like a lump of lead on my chest,” he glanced at her through the limp strands of hair that had fallen in his face. “I’ve spent years trying to erase the past and move forward, but there is always some sort of reminder. A robe, a sound, a-”

“Scar?” she finished for him, looking at the smudge of his mark.

"That's a bit on the nose but..." he glanced meaningfully down at her stomach. It was that moment that she realized her right arm was resting against her side. Without her robes she was only in a t-shirt, with that horrifying scar laid bare. The letters etched into her skin flared red against her paleness, begging to be covered.

“You know…" she started hesitantly. "When Ron found out after the war that it was never going to fade, he wanted to carve ‘blood traitor’ into his arm too. Said we would match.” 

She smiled in spite of herself, remembering Hagrid and Harry having to hold back the drunken redhead. She hadn’t really minded it until that moment, maybe because she had thought no one would care.

“What an idiot.”

“And yet it was still touching," she defended. "You know Draco, the past never goes away, you can’t erase it. But you can right the wrongs you have committed. Or at least try.”

She glanced up to find him staring at her completely devoid of emotion.

“How?” his voice cracked and it stirred something uncomfortable inside her abused chest.

“An apology is a good start,” she suggested.

“An apology won’t take that scar off your arm and it won’t bring anyone back.”

“Scars never heal. But the wound does. It’s up to you if you want it healed properly.”

There was silence again and Hermione focused her attention on the canopy above her. The dark thick folds were made of velvet and the shine caught the firelight in waves. It gave the whole thing an image of an wine-dark sea.

“Sorry.” Hermione started and turned to find Malfoy staring at the floor.

“What?” she asked, half in disbelief and half expecting a trick.

“I am sorry,” he stated blandly looking up to meet her eyes. They revealed nothing, but weren’t exactly icy either. “ I am sorry so many people you know died. I am sorry my aunt did that to you. I am sorry I didn’t stop her.”

“Well,” Hermione said, stumbling for words. “She was a scary woman.”

Draco snorted and graced her with a half smile. “ _That_ is an understatement.”

She thought deeply about how to respond. The knowledgeable part of her knew she should accept it. It was a fine apology and holding on to hatred never got you anywhere you wanted to be. However, the boy in front of her took a lot from her, much more than he realized.

“I accept your apology.” He jumped as if he was expecting a rebuttal. And maybe if he hadn’t just saved her life he would have gotten it. But it was hard to argue with actions and the fact of the matter was she just didn’t know who Draco Malfoy was anymore.

“Thanks. You should get some rest and I have got to get some work done,” he suggested as he gathered some things from the top of his desk awkwardly. “Call the house elf if you need anything. Her name is Pinky.”

“I never expected you to learn a house elf’s name,” she responded with as much humor as she could muster. Which as it turns out, was not much at all.

“Well there is only one.”

Draco quietly glided toward the door, opening the heavy looking wood with practiced ease. He paused and stared at the floor while she watched him. She realized he looked so much older now that she remembered.

“Uh, Granger,” he stammered out awkwardly.

“Yes?”

“I um… I don’t think it's true you know... what's on your arm.”

“Could have fooled me.” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. It was objectively true after all, just not a nice way to put it.

“I know but… You’re a damn good potioneer… And I know you are more than that. I just… old habits.” He gracefully sailed out of the room leaving Hermione mentally cursing. Why couldn’t he stumble over his own feet like a normal person? She stared at the craving in her arm, running her fingertips of the jagged red edges.

 _Mudblood_ laughing back at her tauntingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pitchersplat Problems
> 
> This plant is known for it's calcifying pollen. If inhaled it will turn the mucus in the lungs into a rock like substance preventing lung expansion and oxygen exchange. It is a very Painful way to die.


	18. A Well-Meant Warning

He had expected her to be gone by the time he had come back. She couldn't have possibly been comfortable puttering around the house. And yet, as he felt the warmth of the wards recognize him he was greeted by a deeply discomforted elf.

"Still here?"

"Master. Pinky has no right, no right at all." The elf was wringing her hands, eyes down cast.

"What is it?" His head ached with lack of sleep, vision blurring at the edges every time he blinked. It was pure caffeine that kept him alert through his meeting with the board. He was only steps away from needing a pepper-up potion, damn the side effects.

"The guest. She asks many strange questions."

"I assume about your treatment?" He recalled Granger's push after the war to gain magical creature rights. Something about a salamander, oh wait. Maybe she had been quoting Scamander.

"Master treats Pinky so kind. Master pays Pinky and never hits her."

"It's fine. Where is she?"

"The study Sir. Pinky did not like staying with her." Draco tried to restrain his panic at the thought of someone running loose in his library with no supervision. Knowing Granger however, she was likely nose deep in a book, not caring about the intricacies of his collection, dark or not.

He strode quickly to the right, not bothering to knock on his own door. Unsurprisingly she was still in bed, a collection of tomes scattered across the wide mattress. She did not seem to register his arrival so he took the moment to observe her with her guard down.

She roamed over pages, quickly devouring the information and filing it away for later use. She would stop for a moment on occasion, face registering confusion, before referencing another book from her puddle.

Her face was too thin to be considered pretty. It's harsh angles cut into pale skin giving an almost gaunt appearance when matched her thin lips that moved in silence as she read. He need not touch on the hair. Her only redeeming grace were her eyes. They were bright and thoughtful, laced with emotion as she read. Confusion, curiosity, and even cunning flickered through them as ideas rolled in her wickedly intelligent mind. Familiar swipes of purple were smudged above her cheeks, a heavy indicator of her not sleeping much as well. He hated how similar they were, in skill and mannerism.

Similarities led to kinship, and he supposed that was about where they stood. Last night something had changed in the dynamic of their deal. Draco was once again done in by guilt, just as much as she was done in by her own curiosity. If he had just gone with her…

A hacking cough broke the silence and he took a step forward. She swiveled her head, her face schooling into stone.

_So still not quite trusting, but not outright distrust. Better than a hex I suppose._

"I was unaware this was a public library." He smiled when she rolled her eyes and closed the books in front of her.

"What else was I supposed to do all day?" She pulled herself off the bed and walked over to him. "Your floo is blocked and I figured it would be rude to blast the thing open."

"I had forgotten," he responded watching her neatly stack the books away. "It was for the best anyway, you would probably muck up the name and end up somewhere ridiculous."

"I would have been fine," she huffed while clearing her throat, just proving his point. "In any event, if you would unlock it I think I owe Crookshanks a few cans of tuna."

"Your life is only worth a few cans or fish? You have _got_ to have more self confidence Granger." He smirked and strode out into the living room. She seemed steady enough and if she fell the floor was carpeted.

"Well you certainly have it in abundance." Together they made their way to the floo, Draco snatching the powder before she could reach for it.

"Rowana's Cell," he enunciated clearly to Hermione's groan. The flames flared before depositing them into the musty workshop. It seemed much colder with the fires extinguished. Dust motes caught in the rare London sunlight drifted lazily in the air.

"So I suppose the cat is out of the bag." Hermione sighed as she stepped onto the rug. Instantly everything flared to life, shifting from a dormant cave to a homey cottage. The flames under her cauldron sparked and began a merry boil as a teapot drifted to the table.

"I promise not to torch the place." Draco took a step in himself, heading for the table. He had intended to just drop her off but figured a cup of tea could hurt. He did save her life after all, surely that was worth a cup of tea. The pot in front of him seemed to shiver in delight, calling forth a familiar china pattern before tipping itself.

"You're quite happy with yourself." She shot before joining him at the table.

"Does anyone really like to travel by portkey? This will be much easier." He added a lump of sugar to his cup before inhaling slowly. Earl Gray this time, excellent.

"You can't tell. No one can know. You have to promise-"

"I am surprised you would trust my word," he scoffed, holding up his arm. "I won't tell anyone and I doubt this thing would let me."

"Okay," she sighed as if a great weight had been lifted from her. Her hair had been pulled back into a knot but was getting ever looser as the day went on. "I suppose I will have to add you to the wards then. I will show you where to apparate later, though floo travel will be best."

There was silence between them as both stared at their cups. He wasn't sure what to say or how to act anymore, they were suddenly too close for hate but too distant for companionship. The thick tension of change floated over them like a fog.

As usual it was Hermione who acted first with a gentle throat clear. "I propose a change to the arrangement."

"Oh? What is the issue with the current arrangement?" he questioned as he sipped his tea. Father had always taught him not to give away anything during negotiations.

"Well," she started, her voice was somewhat strained. Either from the tension or from her damage to her respiratory system. "I don't think either of us expected this… situation to continue so long. It is not sustainable as it is."

"Are you refusing to help me then?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow, vaguely aware of a warmth around his wrist.

"I don't have that option unless you just want to tell me what you want so I can fix it," she shot back. He simply scoffed and she sighed. "I propose a change in interaction. Now that you know where I live, I see no reason you cannot come and go as you please, assuming you don't seek to hurt me or rifle through my underthings."

Draco made a face of disgust. The very thought was improper, let alone the subject.

"And what do I have to give up for this privilege?"

"Well, you still must message me ahead of time. That way I can try to be here. I will want access to your library as well. I had no idea you had so many anthologies and I would like a chance to copy over anything not in my own collection."

"Only if I am awarded the same luxury."

"And as such I will need access to your study," Draco resisted the urge to baulk. Very few people had access to his flat at all and only Blaise and Theo had access to his study. No one entered without him other than the house elf.

"Denied."

"It's only fair," Hermione chided as the pot refilled her cup.

"I don't care for fairness."

"Malfoy, this is already hard enough," she sighed tiredly. She had been through a lot and it was wearing on her. "I would like to come out from this something more than enemies."

"Friends?" He scoffed at the very idea. One apology did not make up for a lifetime's events.

"More like peers. Like the classmates we may have been in another life." He was prepared to mock her, to slip right back into what was comfortable. However she did have a point. This was looking like it was going to last quite a long while and he would run out of insults in another month or two.

"If I must," he decided, mentally noting to remove anything of an incriminating nature that night. "However, you cannot ever leave the study. I can't risk anyone seeing you."

"That seems fair," she remarked, both hands clutching her teacup collecting the warmth. They were pocketed with the little scars and burns that decorated most potioneers' hands. The consequences of working with knives and hot liquids.

"The house elf can get you whatever you need upon request. You'll have to come here to use the bathroom though. I ALSO want a message before you head over, and a right of refusal."

"Accepted. Do you often have people in your house?" she questioned, clearly confused at the prospect.

"Both Blaise and Theo have open access, even when I am not there. Occasionally I have another guest but not without notice or my presence. I will tell them to stay out of the study and they will listen."

"I didn't know you three were so close," she stated diplomatically. Draco knew what she meant was that she didn't think he could be close to _anyone_.

"We have more in common than you would think. And they would recognize you, so no bathroom breaks," he finished as he stared down at his empty cup. If felt strange, treating her as an equal.

"Alright well. I will certainly need at least a few days to recover. Feel free to come over starting this Friday. I will pull out a selection of books you may want to duplicate along with materials."

"Friday? I can't come Friday. It's the biggest night of the year," he balked at the very thought. A blank look settled on her face. "You know… Halloween?"

"Oh. I had forgotten." Hermione shrugged. "It's not a big deal in the muggle realm, unless you have children."

"Certainly you'll be wanted at a wizard gathering of some sort? I have to attend 3 that night myself. Considering your connection to The-Boy-Who-Lived I imagined you had obligations of your own."

"Oh no." She smiled happily. "I have managed to dodge most obligations expected of me. An advantage of being muggleborn you see. Cultural differences."

"What will you do then?" Draco asked, his voice heavily laced with confusion. Halloween was a fantastic holiday to be a Wizard. Between the food and loosened rules it was always a great time for him and the boys.

"Probably stay here. I may be too weak to work on any intense potions but I do need to draw up a new batch of healing potions. Ever since your addition to this venture I seem to be running through my stocks three times as fast," she chuckled.

"Now who's fault is that... I would like some as well... if you are so inclined. My own have been fairly low and I haven't had time to make more while running around the world with you." Plus she did manage to make it without that dreadful bitter taste.

"That's fine." She glanced at an old wooden clock on the wall, it was getting late in the day and the sun was setting. "You should head out."

Recognizing the dismissal he tried not to take offence. After all, overstaying your welcome as a guest was terribly rude. At some point he had risen to the status of guest instead of slave, something he intended to hold on to.

"I should. Message me when that potion is done and I will floo over for pick up. I would have you send it over but I am sure my house elf would have a panic attack after last time." He chuckled thinking of Pinky's reaction of a crate of healing potions appearing in the ashes.

"I'll set them by the floo if I am out."

It was at that moment Draco considered the fact he had no idea what Hermione Granger did when she was not commanding him around. Potioneering was a very expensive passion and she had to get money from somewhere. Maybe she had a career he didn't know about. One shop in a third world country would hardly support her financial needs. He made a mental note to look into it.

"Alright, I am off to get some sleep. Happy Halloween." He stood and wandered over to the floo.

"Happy Halloween," she shouted back. He violently shoved down the urge to invite her along. Years of his mother's social training raging over the idea of any witch or wizard spending their holiday alone. Instead he stepped into the fireplace and headed home, frowning at the mess his day had become.

0000000000000000000000000000

"What about that one?" Blaise was pointing to a witch dressed in a powder blue ball gown. Her hair was piled atop her head in some sort of configuration that defied gravity. When she turned a dripping bloody line traced her neck like macabre jewelry.

"Marie Antoinette?" Draco responded as he sipped his cider. It was an old vintage, supposedly made from a seed of the golden apple of greek mythos. "I think that's one of the Shafiq lines. I heard they were moving back to England, and that they are all married."

"And your point is?" Blaise asked as he adjusted the quiver hanging off his back. It was full of spelled arrows that when shot, exploded into fireworks. Some of his best, if not a bit over the top work.

"Husbands are scary, Blaise. Almost worse than fathers," Theo supplied from Draco's right. He was trying very hard not to spill the cider his all white outfit while trying to keep the over exaggerated false eyelash from hitting the glass.

"Spoil sport. What about that one?" This time Draco followed his gaze to humanoid representation of a unicorn. Covered in glitter and pastels from hoof to horn, and not much else.

"You'll never be able to get the glitter out of your couch," he responded evenly. Blaise simply smiled before drawing his bow and taking aim above the witch in question. As the arrow reached the pinnacle of it's arch it exploded outward into a crackling of silver and gold, startling the witches below it before they began to giggle.

"I steal from the rich and give to the poor, but your ravishing beauty leaves me wanting more!" Blaise quickly strode off toward his new prize, the feather in his cap bouncing jauntily.

"Such a show boat." Theo smiled before turning to Draco. "Anyone catch your fancy?"

Draco glanced again at the large crowd around them. Various masks and costumes drifted by but none really drew his eye.

"It's all so boring," he responded.

"She clearly does not share then." Draco glanced at Blaise and his new interest to see what the two have gotten up to. While an aggressively familiar courtship was blooming there wasn't anything particular happening.

"I don't catch your meaning." Draco turned only to find Theo's eyes locked on him, heavy with suspicion. Nosy bastard.

"I am sure you don't. Well I am off, it appears the unicorn has a angel friend." His friend threw back his drink, grabbing another. He tapped his cane on the floor and bowed in mock formality.

Draco rolled his eyes before glancing at his watch. It was nearly midnight which is when the party would truly start. He just wasn't sure why he wasn't quite in the mood.

0000000000

Draco scowled as he stalked through the mostly empty ministry. In spite of the holiday the internal regulation of magical creatures apparently never took a day off. As it turned out, the sphinx relocating of their own accord were still considered an import and thus required taxation. At least he didn't have to pay the Egyptian export penalties as well.

He was mentally calculating how many additional units needed to be sold to make up for the expense when the familiar humid thickness and buzzing of a _muffliato_ charm settled around him. Draco had intended to continue walking as he had no interest in the boring gossip of office work. Unfortunately a door appeared directly to his left and he was yanked into it by the back of his robe.

He threw up shields, both mentally and physically, as he drew his wand. Looking around, he could see that had fallen into an empty office scattered with a variety of paperwork. Seated at the desk directly in front of him was none other than Harry Bloody Potter.

"You know you could have just made an appointment. I could make room for the Boy-Who-Lived." Draco let the disdain leak deeply into his voice, wrapping around him like a comforting armor. Just in time apparently. The familiar sludge of a presence that was not his own tickled at the forefront of his mind. It was weak. Clumsy. Novice. He was defending against worse are 15.

"Legilimency is for the skilled Potter, leave it to the professionals." He flicked the presence away from his mind. The man in front of him had aged quickly. His face was carved with lines of constant worry, exacerbated by the deep look of concentration on his face.

"Pointing a wand at the Minster. Not one of you smartest moves Malfoy." He stood all too smugly, slowly maneuvering around the nondescript welcome desk. He looked no different from the last press release Draco had seen. His wild hair was partially tamed into a somewhat professional style fully displaying his famous scar. The dark rimmed eyes that had accompanied him since he was 16 were still hidden behind wire frame glasses. His mother's eyes according to the papers.

"A minister trying to read the mind of an innocent. Where is your security force when you are behaving so poorly?" Draco responded as he lowered his wand. "What do you want, Potter? I have followed all the laws. You have no reason to be bothering me."

Harry shrugged as he leaned back against the desk. Over the years they had reached something that could be considered peace. Draco kept his nose clean and Potter stayed out of his life. He hadn't been alone with the man since the war. What could he possibly want?

"You've been disappearing," Harry responded as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his suit. "To places where my traces can't find you."

"Seems like a sloppy bit of spell work on your part," Draco answered as equally nonchalantly. It would make perfect sense that the Traces couldn't track him at Granger's. The wards around the place were so convoluted that he could barely make sense of it.

"Or, you have been mixing with something you shouldn't be."

"Oh? And what's that?" Draco responded. The less he said the less he gave away.

"Let's find out." If he hadn't been prepared for the strike his shields may have fallen from the sheer force of it. He felt the man's consciousness slam against his mind, trying to overcome skill with pure strength. With very little effort Draco was able to deflect the attack, this time aggressively pushing the Minister's mind away. Draco refused to acknowledge how much Harry's mind felt like Voldemort's.

"I have fought off better minds than yours," he stated as Harry rubbed his eyes. Draco didn't hurt him per say, but the man likely was going to have a headache the rest of the day. "Let's drop the theatrics. What do you want?"

Harry shook his head and scowled.

"Fine. I know you have been looking into Hermione." He straightened, stepping closer to Draco. "Don't."

"Hermione?" Draco painted a look of deep thought on his face. He forced the guilt to the very back of his mind, drawing up a memory of school instead. "Oh, Granger the m-"

"Don't say it Malfoy," Harry growled threateningly, cutting him off. A good thing too. Draco had been about to call her a muggleborn.

"What about it?" Draco asked as examined his fingernails, checking for smudges of ink.

"Why?"

"Why does anyone do anything?" he sighed, glancing off towards the door and thinking forcefully of lunch.

"Look. I don't care what it is. Drop it. She's gone and doesn't want to be found."

"Oh, you think she's alive?" Draco questioned with a raised eyebrow. He watched the other man bristle. "Pity."

"I didn't say that," Harry stumbled over the words, trying to correct himself. Interesting.

"Right, well I don't care one way or another. If you must know we were looking into her on the request of a client. Something of a fan, wanted us to source a collection of her potions. Was horribly disappointed that she didn't stick around long enough to actually make any." The lie slid from his tongue with marked disappointment. "They were willing to pay significantly for it."

"I don't believe you," the other man spat.

"I don't really care. Are we done here?" Draco questioned trying to appear as bored as possible. He met the emerald glare with a flat look of his own.

"I'm sorry," Potter's face crumbled from anger into disappointment. "It just looked bad, you know. And-"

"Don't care," Draco commented as he wandered towards the door with slow purposeful strides.

"Malfoy," Harry responded from behind him just as his hand had touched the knob. "If you do happen to see her..."

"Yes?" Draco drawled with deep disgust. As if the very idea was enough to make him vomit.

"Just leave her alone."

He risked a glance back. Harry was staring meaningfully at him. The wizard's hand twitched towards his wand, not quite aggressively but certainly not politely. He was seeped in mistrust, doubt and perhaps even a bit of anger. Draco thought better of provoking him too much.

"Why would I want anything to do with someone like her?" He closed the door behind him before Harry could respond.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

It had been an excruciating week for Hermione. Her lungs took ages to recover and she had to remind herself to be grateful for the rescue. Draco clucked over her every time they ran across each other. Which, as it turned out, was quite often since she had access to his library.

Her coughing took days to get to a manageable level which meant potion brewing and any physical labor was out of the question. Leaving nothing but research and a library full of books she had never heard of. It was fairly obvious where she was going to recover. Even Malfoy didn't give her so much as a second glance when he arrived to work and found her lounging on the furniture set that replaced her recovery bed.

Even now, little clouds of powdered concrete would puff out if she overworked herself physically. Which was something she hadn't intended on doing until a hastily scratched note appeared in her mail basket.

She was just setting out the final book for Draco when the flames from the floo flared.

"I am so sick of diplomats. Always thinking the world revolves around their little country. As if a hair thickening potion would be life or death to the people of Solvanina," Draco's rant continued as he paced up and down her living room, slowly losing steam. "The warehouses and scrambling for raw materials for our new beauty line and the ministry is still on me about importing the sphinxes less than legally. Honestly I- Where are you going?"

Hermione had slowly been creeping toward the bathroom and had just managed to clear the cauldron fireplace before he noticed.

"I had something come up," she responded straightening her jumper and trying to act like she wasn't sneaking away.

"Should you be doing any kind of traveling during your recovery?" Draco scoffed as he rounded out his pace, thoroughly blocking her path to freedom.

"Should you be telling me what to do? You aren't my mother."

"No, however I did not go through all that work to keep you alive just to let you wander off to die in the Sahara because your throat is to dry to properly incant anything."

"I am fine. Stop being such a-" Her insistence immediately morphed into a hacking cough as Draco flicked his pointer finger against her breast bone. Little puffs of power sprinkled her hand as she tried to regain control of her breathing.

"Hm. I can see that." When she finally caught her breath, she blinked away the tears in her eyes. Malfoy was watching her with his arms crossed and a scowl.

"Okay, I could use a few more days. However, I do not have that. This is time sensitive. I have left some one of a kind manuscripts over by the window for transcription and a few on the table for duplication. Now if you'll excuse me." She hiked up a large leather knapsack onto her shoulder. It was empty and weighed nothing but the motion felt very end-of-discussion-y.

"Fine. Where are we going?" he sighed and immediately clicked open the hidden panel in the wall. The door cracked open, a trickle of sunlight seeping through.

"Not we. Me," she scoffed and pushed past him into the bathroom. She gazed longingly at the thick cast iron tub. She had been dying for a proper boiling soak, but every time the water passed her diaphragm it sent her into another fit. She desperately hoped it was not from long term damage.

"You've dragged me along to four countries in two months but suddenly want me to stay here? Why?"

"Because." She dismissed him immediately hoping he would just go back into the workshop and read. Of course he was far to stubborn to listen.

"I think not." He blocked off the door with body and leaned back. It was clear he had no intentions of moving of his own volition. If he wanted it to be like that, fine.

 _"Stupify._ "

 _"Protego._ " The hex bounced off his shield and slammed into the mirror behind her, shattering the glass.

"Great, now not only do you owe me a mirror, you will also need to pick that up." He simply smirked as she slid her wand back into the pocket in her sleeve.

"Send me the bill. Where are we going?" Looking like every bit the gentleman he opened the door to her linen closet, waving her in with an elegant partial bow.

"Romaina," she sighed as she stepped in anyway. Having him along would actually be quite helpful if her breathing was too much of a limiting factor.

"Ah, home of the dragons. Are we going hunting?" he questioned as he shut the door behind them. She rolled her eyes and held up her hand, stopping him mid stride.

"Look, this is very important. If you are coming along you must be very respectful. We will be dealing with very old dragons that would happily use your skinny legs as toothpicks. More importantly it took years to get to a point where they trust me. So please," she pondered how to end the statement. "Just keep your mouth shut."

"How rude," he quipped as he followed her through the curtain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Happy Halloween-
> 
> Always a big to-do in the wizarding world Halloween is a great time for magic and potion brewing due to increased magical ability.
> 
> Holy Harry-
> 
> The boy who lived is alive and well serving as the youngest Minister of magic in living memory. Kingsly never really wanted the role and stepped down as soon as Potter had enough experience on him to take the mantle.
> 
> Teenage Traces-
> 
> Traces were repurposed after the war to check for dark magic on released Death Eaters. Just like the regular traces they can be murky and difficult to read.
> 
> Legilimency-
> 
> Definitely a gray art not many people learn it. Some top level interrogators may but I imagine it is certainly less distasteful to use truth serum. Harry barely stumbled through occulmency and would be pretty terrible and heavy handed when it came to such a subtle art.


	19. An Old Family Secret

Draco needant question how she could afford her potions anymore. As they stepped through the mirror (since he refused to call it a closet) the tea towels and spare soaps faded away. They were replaced with mountains of gold, piled far above their heads. There were some gallons mixed in but most of the currency he was unfamiliar with, some he couldn't even make out the language for. A crude pathway was carved out in front of them and Hermione was making her way down it, trying not to slip on the coins.

She made a quick right at a towering pile of uncut sapphires and a left turn at a moldy stack of fabrics. He couldn't help but grimace at the fact that whenever he went on one of her hair-brained schemes, he always ended up dreadfully dirty. Finally there was a break in the treasures as the pathway opened to a huge cavern. It was not exactly stuffed but the wealth accumulated in the room clearly outweighed even his fortune.

"Granger… how on earth did you-." Suddenly a hot wind blasted against his face.

He stared in horror as the pile of fine feathers next to him began to fall away. The tail was the first thing to surface, wickedly-sharp black spikes were cracked through with a burning hot sienna. A pair of webbed wings stretched up 30 feet into the air, veined with lava. The spikes on its back rolled as the monster lifted its head.

"Fuck." Was all he could manage as the dragon stared at him with eyes that flickered full of flame. Smoke tendrils danced out of its partially open mouth as it's nostrils flared. He grabbed Hermione's arm and tried his best to apparate literally anywhere else, only for his wand to shoot a pathetic amount of sparks with no other result. They had exactly no chance in hell of getting out of this. "Please tell me this is a friend of yours?"

"In a way." Hermione stepped forward, covering Draco with her body.

"Girl, you have brought someone else." The great dragon's eyes narrowed as he crossed his talons in front of his large body. His ebony scales gleamed with the smoothness of obsidian and were at their largest the size of a tea table. "I do not know him."

"Our apologies, Ignatius. We did mean to wake you." Hermione dropped into a prim bow. "We were requested."

"I see." His voice rumbled, refracted off the walls of the cavern. His eyes focused on Draco with a deeply disturbing interest. "Our deal is with you girl. There is no room for a mate."

"She's not my-" Draco doubled over clutching his stomach. Hermione's hit had been so fast he barely noticed. "I didn't even know dragons could talk.

"The very old, very powerful ones can," Hermione hissed back before responding to the giant creature. "He is harmless. I promise we are not trying anything shifty. It's just that I am injured and need his help. He won't misbehave."

"I am sure he won't. Not once, I eat him." The blast of hot air pushed Hermione out of the way as the dragon shot forward, snapping at where Draco had just stood. He scrambled back, slipping over coins as the piles began to shift like sand dunes.

"Ignatius!" Hermione cried from his right. Draco dodged another snap, leaping to the right and slamming his shoulder into a heavy wooden chest at the base of a precariously stacked tower. The shock of pain up his shoulder centered his panic as the dragon's smoking mouth opened wide.

Instead of running he scrambled up, waiting patiently as the creature dove in. This time he lept off to the right, leaving the dragon to crash into the base of the tower, causing it to collapse and coins to rain down on the creature's neck.

He threw out a quick _bombarda,_ completely unsurprised when it bounced harmlessly off the beast and exploded into a pile of books. The creature shook itself free of the gold, eyes locking on its prey. Draco was so focused on it's mouth he didn't see the tail that came whipping in to slam him around the waist.

"Draco!" Hermione called from his side as he lost sight of her. He hoped she had been clear of the avalanche. "Stop it Ignatius. You know better!"

"He's not a puppy dog Granger." Draco groaned as he felt his robes pulled tight at his chest. His addled brain slowly registered a change in altitude as he was pulled up by the back of his robe to face the dragon head on. Its eyes were narrowed in anger.

"That hurt boy." It's deep voice hissed in anger, and Draco was sure that that death by dragon would appear on his tombstone. The irony was not lost on him.

" _Confringo!_ " Again the blasting curse rebounded off the drake and hit with a loud crash elsewhere.

"Foolish humans and their pathetic magic. You tantrum like a hatchling who first discovers his fire. Beg for your life, hatchling." The creature smiled toothily, long jagged points reflecting the gold around them. It's eyes burned mockingly, begging him to shoot another spell. Dragons were practically impervious to all offense magic, but Draco did have a shot. The inner corner of its eyes were soft and pink, a small opening meant for tears. He had no way to deal a fatal blow and could not outrun it. If he were smart he would beg and hope for a quick death.

" _Arenae._ " The sand shot out of the end of his wand, flying astutely into the delicate tear duct. The dragon roared as it dropped him, scratching at its face. The air filled with with scent of cinnamon as he fell into a soft cushioning charm. The idiot hadn't run. Immediately Draco rolled to recover, tearing around a collection of statues toward what he thought was the exit. Hermione slipped out of her own corridor, catching herself on her hand.

"Hermione! Run!" His own escape was cut off as thick black claws slammed in front of him, caging him in. They tightened around him, thicker than the bars of any cage, cutting off his escape.

"Well well hatchling. You have fire don't you."

"Ignatius! You stop that right now!" To his horror the curly hair witch was stomping forward shaking her finger at the dragon like a naughty child. "You've gone too far."

"I have not gone far enough," the creature growled back, as it closed its hand around him. Draco prepared himself for crushing pressure, only to be gently lifted to eye level by the creature.

"You are quite a fighter. I will be feeling those grains until the next time I shed." It hissed as Draco scrambled for purchase on it's palm.

"I will shoot more, I think I missed your ear canal.," Draco spat, brandishing his wand wildly.

"Draco! Be respectful!" Hermione called from directly below him.

"Pardon me for not being a quiet dinner. Don't mind my screams of pain, try the liver though. I hear it's delicious!" He scrambled to stay upright as the hand shook. It took him a second to place the odd chuffing sound as laughter.

"Calm little hatchling. I was only testing you," the dragon hissed as tears continued to leak from its eyes. "Though I am quite cross about my eyes."

"You shouldn't have tried to eat me."

"I wouldn't eat you, boy. Your leg would barely qualify as a toothpick. Girl, calm him down." The dragon lowered him to the floor. Draco's body was shaking and his eyes darted around quickly, looking for an exit.

"You are the reason he's in a panic!" she screeched at the large reptile, stomping over to him. "You okay Malfoy?"

"What is… what is going on?" His body heaved with the leftover effect of adrenaline and she caught him on her shoulder as his legs shivered like jello. He wasn't too injured after all. As a matter of fact, the worst pain he currently felt was in his stomach where Hermione had hit him.

"Just a test, hatchling. You have passed. Be gracious." The dragon behind them settled down to his stomach, scratching at his eyes.

"A test? Granger!" His anger was reduced to a glare as his body slowly returned to the rest of his body.

"Sorry sorry. I had told you to be respectful. I didn't expect him to try to EAT YOU!" She turned her ire to the dragon, shuffling above them. "You could have seriously hurt him! What kind of test was that?"

"I would have healed his squish filled body and paper skin. But _who_ is going to remove this sand in my eyes?"

"No one you self-absorbed scale sucker. I am telling Charlie to let you suffer." Hermione looked absolutely pissed. Her cheeks were flushed bright red and she was near shaking as she screamed. She whipped her head around, meeting his gaze. "Can you walk?"

"Yes? Probably."

"Weak males are a scourge. Better to be rid of them anyway," the creature muttered.

"Enough out of you, you overgrown gecko!" She pulled Draco along, muttering to herself as they hobbled along. It only took a few moments for him to get his legs underneath him before he detached himself.

"What just-"

"Dragons. Worthless, stinking, violent, idiotic dragons," she cried, throwing her hands up in the air. "When males meet they challenge each other. Apparently that- that- that crocodile thought that you were presenting a horridly unfair fight and easy win to boost his own ego-"

"Should I be flattered or insulted?" he questioned as his senses slowly faded back to normal. Wind drifted in ahead, light shining through.

"I am sorry about that Malfoy. It was wholly uncalled for. He was just supposed to question who you were then let us pass. That was not part of the guardian agreement." She stopped their march suddenly. "Are you okay?"

"Other than clearly being an afterthought, yes? I mean I still have my limbs, so…" She heaved a sigh of relief and walked on.

"There are worse ways to come out of a dragon fight," she chuckled as her shoulders dropped. "Still, that was my fault and I apologize for it."

"It's fine, so were we just here to get my arse kicked by a dragon?" he questioned as the cave opening came into view.

"An unforseen perk. We have another task today." As they stepped out of the rocky entrance Draco found himself surrounded by heavy pinewood forest and slick gravelly soil.

"Merlin, what took you so long Hermione?" A man pushed himself off a nearby tree. His dragonhide jacket covered most of his arms but his hands peaked out. A network of burns and scars expanded up his wrist before disappearing. His smile was friendly and welcoming, with sparkling blue eyes and freckles that dotted his face. Deep red hair fell in curls just past his ears and shook with his hearty laugh. Red hair, and a homemade vest? Must be a Weasley.

"Charlie!"

0000000000000000000000000

"Who's this Granger? Your boyfriend?" Malfoy asked with disdain soaking every word. She smiled at the reaction.

"If only, mum would be thrilled," Charlie responded with his usual good nature. "Ron might be a bit cheesed though."

"How is Mrs. Weasley?" she questioned, calling to mind the feared matriarch of the Weasley clan.

"Eh, as well as she can be. George finally got the shop opened back up so she's been helping out there."

"Grieving takes time," she supplied awkwardly. George had been a bit of a mess when she had left. It was good to hear he was getting his legs back under him.

"Indeed it does. You up for a hike then? Sounded loud in there."

"And you didn't think to help?" Malfoy spat crossing his arms.

"Hardly seemed a need. Iggy has never hurt a fly. Well, other than the woodland creatures he viciously hunts and eviscerates. Didn't catch your name, friend. Charlie Weasley at your service."

"Draco Malfoy, less than charmed. You related the the weasel?"

"Which one?" Charlie chuckled as he picked up his own pack from the ground and set off, leaving them scrambling to catch up.

"He means Ron." Hermione shot back a venomous look, all sympathy from earlier gone. Would it kill him to be nice for a change?

"Ah yes, my youngest brother. Quite the trouble maker you know. Were you classmates with him and 'Mione?" Charlie gracefully hopped a fallen tree in their path without missing a beat.

"You could say that." Malfoy responded while shooting her a questioning gaze. Charlie had spent his time so far from home that he missed a lot of the details going on in the war. Not that she planned on telling Malfoy that. "Since when do dragons talk, anyway."

"It's pretty rare but they all do eventually if they get old enough. So 'Mione drag you along or something?" Charlie questioned with his eyes locked on a dragon flying high above them in the clouds. Hermione had always wondered why he strayed so far from his family but one look at him as he watched his dragons and it was clear as day.

"No," Malfoy hissed ducking under a sweeping branch she had let fall into his face. "I don't get dragged anywhere. How did you get wrapped up with the hag?"

"Me? Ran into 'Mione a few years ago sneaking around Iggy's cave. He was a grouchy bastard with a broken wing at that point. I went to check on how it was healing and poof, there she was among the books," Charlie responded happily, seemingly not noticing her trying to trip the blond. "You should have seen her face. White as a ghost and jumpy as a deer. Mighty amusing considering she was cuddled up next to one of the oldest dragons in the northern hemisphere."

"Well I wasn't exactly expecting to see you. Ignatius also conveniently didn't mention there were any wizards caring for him. " She turned to Draco figuring it fair to offer the explanation. "I was here because this valley has an overwhelming patch of Stranglethorn and I use it to seal all of my potions."

"Can you blame him? He's a proud bloke, not one to admit he needs help," Charlie added.

The path broke open as the trees ahead disappeared into black scorch marks. The gray rocky ground was hard packed and narrowed to a very tall and thin ridge. It was clear by the deep gouges and black burns along the sweeping sides it was a favored fighting ground for the native residents.

As they maneuvered the pass she caught sight of their destination ahead. A great looming mountain threw its shadow over them like a blanket. The sun setting behind it gave the old dormant volcano life again, the fire seemingly spewing into the sky.

"Something is following us." Malfoy's voice broke through her concentration. She stopped her admiration of the landscape and turned to catch him looking suspiciously at the forest behind them. "I just saw it."

"We're three capable wizards. Nothing to worry about champ," Charlie responded as he continued forward.

"There it is again!"

Hermione threw an exasperated look at Malfoy who was now eyeing some loose boulders that had tumbled down the ridge.

"Stop being so paranoid. Charlie knows all the dragons in a 100 mile radius. Nothing would attack us out here."

Charlie nodded his agreement.

"I am not crazy, it was something yellow. Maybe black."

She sighed leaving him behind.

"We're nearly there. Just calm down," said.

The rocks towered above them at such a steep angle she could barely make out the rim of the thing. Thin jagged shale formed huge upward pointing shards, creating a rather forbidding entrance.

"I swear I have been in more caves with you than-" His statement was cut off by the sound of his breath being knocked out of him and a shout of surprise. She and Charlie both whipped around, wands at the ready. A familiar hulking cat had Malfoy pinned at the shoulders, her teeth barred with a dangerous rumble produced from her throat. With a sigh, Hermione placed her wand back in her pocket.

"Knock it off Anike." The cat gave no sign of understanding and continued its threatening pose.

"Granger. There is a very angry cheetah on top of me. Please do something to get it off!" Draco hissed from his position.

"Come on sweet. That's no way to handle someone you don't like." Charlie had his arms crossed over his chest with a half smile gracing his face. He looked every bit like an indulgent father... or perhaps partner. _Interesting_.

The large spotted cat took a faux bite a bit too close to Malfoy's face for comfort before begrudgingly removing herself. The air shimmered subtly with magic as Anike shucked off her animagus form.

"I am a jaguar. Stupid boy." She shook out her shoulder before turning to Hermione and greeting her with a bone crushing hug. "Sister! I am very glad to see you, despite the circumstances."

"Good to see you, Anike. How is everyone?"

"Well Shari had her dream a few weeks ago. She is thrilled." Anike smiled, clearly proud to brag about her home tribe.

"At only seven? That's amazing! Did she get a stone or wood?"

"Ugh, I thought we were done with you." Malfoy was brushing the dust of his robes, a very unattractive sneer on his face. He may have looked threatening if it weren't for the twig hanging off his right ear.

"Sister Hermi, I thought you would have trained that creature better," Anike commented, turning back to the blond wizard. "Out for a walk dog-boy?"

Malfoy bristled and she was sure a hex or two was about to fly. Thankfully, Charlie intervened.

"While I am sure that the two of you would have a brilliant duel, have you forgotten why we are here? Hardly seems fitting to have a squabble." He trained a look of disappointment that even Molly would have been proud of on the two.

"Fine." Anike was the first to break away from his gaze, interestingly with a blush. It only lasted a moment before she turned back to fire another comment at Draco. "Keep close to your leash, pup. There are many things with fangs out here, not the least is me."

"Why is she here?" Malfoy groaned as the younger witch stalked through the vaulted entrance.

"She was kind enough to serve as a guide. You'll be grateful by the end of the night. You may even want to kiss her," Hermione teased as she followed Anike's path.

"Fat chance, guide for what?" he responded following her with light steps.

"The dragon obviously." Malfoy cursed as he stubbed his toe on a wall. She could have cast a lumos spell but she needed to reserve as much magic as possible and they were almost through anyway. "The one whose life we are going to end."

"Pardon? Did you just say we are going to kill a dragon." There was a moment of silence as the gray exit in front of them released a mournful cry.

"Did you not tell him?" Charlie questioned bringing up the rear.

"He wasn't part of the plan. He just decided to tag along last minute."

"Well sorry to crash your dragon hunt. But I have ethical concerns, starting with my life. So I will leave you to it." A muffled thunk sounded behind her and she figured Charlie had caught him.

"Relax, it's not a big deal." She broke past the exit and looked down the steeply sloping sides. Their girl was at the bottom of the crater in the very center, Anike right beside her.

She was a stunning creature, ebony black with silver lined scales. She was on the smaller side with a flexible shape and ridgeless back. Her wings disappeared when tucked into her side and she looked more snake than dragon. While the fire drakes like Ignatius were all danger and spike, the air drakes were smooth and slippery, better to reduce drag.

Without a second thought she took a step, sliding down the side of the arena. The noise and dust caught the female's eye and she raised her crest in a momentary fit of alarm before settling back down under Anike's soft words. The scraping behind her indicated that at least someone was following her. She came to a gentle stop at the flat base, eyes focused ahead.

"Granger." Malfoy had grabbed her arm as he landed and was staring up above them. All over the inner rim, specs of color spotted the rock. Mostly green and brown but some reds and blues as well. There must have been hundreds of them.

"They've come to say goodbye." Charlie stood behind them, staring as well as the creatures shifted. "It never gets old does it?"

"No, it doesn't," Hermione answered feeling a bit awestruck herself. However she had a mission and had to see it through. She pushed all sadness out of her mind, it wasn't the dragon's way.

She took long strides ahead, purposely standing tall and proud. It would do no good to appear meek. Malfoy appeared beside her, apparently catching on and looking every bit the haughty brat he was.

"Wanna fill me in?" he questioned in a low voice.

"Told you, we're ending a dragon's life."

"Not very sporting is it?" he questioned, glancing at the resting female they were approaching.

"It's not supposed to be. Can you do what I say? Without questions. I will fill you in after, promise."

"Do I have much of a choice at this point?" They approached the old air drake with cautious indifference. There was no real ritual to it, it was just something she did as a habit.

"I am Hermione Granger and this is Draco Malfoy."

"I am Ceruna, of the great plains." The great beast spoke in a whispy hiss. Her eyes were pale blue and focused with great resolve on Malfoy. She blinked once before showing her teeth.

"Hello hatchling. I hear you have caused great discomfort to one of ours." The voice shimmed in mirth. "Ignatius has always been too proud for his own good."

"Well I-" Hermione elbowed his ribs to serve as warning for him to be cautious. "He had it coming."

Clearly it went ignored.

"Hm." The dragon moved closer, her nose nearly touching his chest. Even being one of the smaller species her head was easily large enough she could snap him at the midriff with one bite if she so chose. "He is right. I like you."

"Ceruna, of the great plains," Hermione continued before Malfoy managed to say something that would get them both eaten. "Have you come to end your life?"

She felt him jump beside her but for the most part he remained stoic.

"I have lived a great many years on this earth. My bones grow weary."

"We can care for you. The human male behind us is well versed in the ways of your kind. He could keep you without pain."

"I care not about the pain nor to be housed like a pet," The dragon huffed, crossing her forearms over each other. "I can no longer soar. The sky remains out of my reach, fluttering above me while I crawl like a worm on the ground. Save me the years of embarrassment and shame. I wish to die remembered as a master of air, not dust."

Above them the dragons cried out, a chorus of deep bellows and high screeches.

"Very well, we are honored to grant you this request". Hermione reached into her bag, pulling out a long thin knife. It was decorated plainly with a simple bronze hilt. It's foot long edge shimmered brightly in the dull light of the crater. Her wrist warmed slightly and she glanced down at her bracelet in surprise.

**We? What do you mean we?**

She turned to the rim of bellowing dragons, silencing them with a swipe of her hand. "Bid goodbye to your cousin, and may she be born anew within you."

The surrounding drakes all bowed their heads and a suffocating silence fell as they conveyed their final words. She shoved the dagger against Malfoy's chest pleading with her eyes for him to remain calm.

 _Good I was going to have to pull you aside._ She paused for a moment, giving him time to read the small script on the watch. _We are going to kill her. I'm not confident that have the focus or strength to lift the knife while I work the spell. So this will be cleaner._

 **You expect me to stab a dragon?** Her bracelet burned as alarm flashed across his face.

 _She will let you, just move to the base of her neck and she will show you where. Wait on my mark_.

**Make one of them do it!**

_I can't ask that of Charlie and it would hurt Anike. She has known Ceruna for as long as she has been in the village...Please._

"The memories have been conveyed. I am ready to leave," Ceruna nodded her head.

"As is customary I grant you a last wish," Hermione recited.

"I wish to leave this plane at my greatest. Not this shriveled thing I have become. I wish to fly through the sky's unburdened by my years as I move to the next life." A chorus of roars sounded around them.

"I can grant this wish. Give me your head and you will fly, alive once again." The dragon laid her head flat on the ground. Her movements looked stiff and painful. Hermione glanced up at Draco willing him to meet her eyes. When he did she nodded, hoping he was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building With Om
> 
> Charming Charlie
> 
> After the war Charlie continued his work with the dragons helping the injured and ill. When he discovered their plight of age he wanted to assist them. His first attempt was disastrous after being unable to kill his charged dragon. As such until Hermione's appearance nothing was done.
> 
> African Animagi
> 
> For whatever reason the native witch and wizard population of Africa tend to have much more success with the transformation into animagi. Uagadou, the African wizarding school, teaches the subject in their third year.
> 
> Dithering Dragons
> 
> As dragons age they slowly begin to run out of things to do. Eventually they learn a human language in their old age. How bored would you have to be to learn how to speak to fruit flies? That's how bored dragons need to get comparatively. Dragons come with a base element, air, fire, earth, water. They can all breath some sort of fire however their element really determines where and how they live their lives.


	20. A Cycle Continues

Was she bloody insane? There is no way that she could promise to make such a massive creature fly. Maybe float a few inches of the ground but not fly. Then she wanted him to poke it with a sewing needle and hope it didn’t snap him in half. 

Draco felt the crackle of ambient magic as it pulled toward her, a familiar smell of cinnamon drifted through the air as the power gathered. He expected the outward blast and braced himself for it. After a few moments he risked a glance at Granger. She was deeply focused, her face schooled in concentration. Her palm rested on the great behemoth’s head, its eyes shut as well.

He glanced around him only to see Weasley and seer-girl both standing at the edge of the crater, their backs turned to him. Unsure of what to do he considered his options. He could stand around like an idiot and wait for a dragon to get hungry and eat him or….

_Legilimens_

After years of torture he had finally found something useful to come from his youth. He liked to think he had gotten practiced with the spell. He was incredibly skilled, able to delve into the deepest sections of peoples thoughts and memories without leaving a trace. However, he was sure he had managed to screw it up because all he saw was a sheet of pale blue... Then suddenly he was falling.

He was speeding through the air, wind whipping past him with puffs of cloud obscuring his vision for a moment before clearing. His body rotated to face down toward the sea, his free fall rocketing him ever closer to the massive expanse of wine-dark water. A quick snap, as his wings flew out catching a gale and pulling him up so fast it was disorienting.

Just as Malfoy knew his own hand he knew this was not his memory, he knew it was not real, but something about it felt so real he found his heart racing. The details were exact, every sense present and firing on overdrive; from the salty sea air to the deafening roar of the wind. It was not just images rolling by, he was living the memory itself in all its glory.

His muscles stretched, beating upward to dive through another cloud, relishing the fine layer of dew before it slid off his scales. The frigid air hardened what remained to ice as he caught up drafts slipping higher and higher before diving down again, snapping his wings open just before hitting the water. It was the ultimate ride, a broom would never be the same again

After a few minutes a warming sensation at his wrist pulled him to reality. He reluctantly backed out of the memory and let himself return. Everything was exactly as he left it. He didn’t need to glance at the watch.

On the back of the midnight neck, scales shifted apart, a small patch of skin no bigger than a knut revealed itself. It was bright red next to the dark scales, ripe with blood and so very fragile. He placed the tip of the dagger over the opening, careful not to let the point drag on the skin. He glanced at Hermione one more time before plunging down with one swift movement. 

The creature didn’t so much as twitch. A chorus of roars sounded from above him and the beating of wings shifted the air around him as hundreds of dragons took flight, soaring in circles above them as the magic around him slipped away.

It was a racking set of coughs that drew his attention from the colorful spectacle. Hermione had fallen to her knees and was clutching her chest. He ran over to her, rubbing her back while keeping an eye on the dragons above him. They were circling lower.

“Time to go.” The Weasley appeared beside him, hefting Hermione's arm onto his shoulder. Not missing a beat Draco gathered up her other side as they hobbled quickly away. They had barely made it clear before the hoard descended.

“What in the bloody hell just happened?” Draco questioned as the mass of snapping mouths and scales piled together.

“They’re eating her,” Charlie responded, adjusting Hermione back on rocky ground to recover.

“Pardon?” Draco balked at the distasteful sounds behind him, making a note not to turn around.

“A dragon's memory exists in their flesh. When they die they consume each other to pass on their experiences.” The red headed man rubbed the back of his neck. “I know it's brutal looking but it is very important for the continuation of knowledge with the species. One as old as she was must have held a wealth of information.”

“How old was she?”

“She has known at least eight Fathers.” Anike’s voice next to him was mildly startling. Her eyes were brimming with tears as she watched. “She was a wondrous creature, who deserved the greatest respect.”

“Let’s go,” Hermione gasped out. She had regained her breath for the most part and was pulling herself up to stand. “They will be awhile and we will come back then.”

000000000000

Hermione laughed as Charlie threw another leaf onto the fire. It burned in a rich lapis blue spiral before exploding into orange sparks. 

“While the fireworks are amusing Weasley are there any practical uses for it?” Draco was sitting to her right chewing on some dried meat of questionable repute. 

“Why do it have to have a use? Why can it not just be?” Anike scoffed from across the fire. “You British are always looking for a way to use things. Just let them be what they are.”

“And miss out on a profit margin? Never.” Draco smirked as she rolled her eyes, launching into another rant. He seemed to enjoy irritating the African witch as much as she enjoyed arguing with him.

“Okay okay, what about this one.” Draco stared carefully at the five pointed leaf Charlie offered him, squinting in the dark. The dragons had taken about an hour to pick clean every bone. When the hoard dispersed there was near nothing left. Ceruna's impenetrable hide had been cast off to the side for Hermione's collection. To her surprise Draco didn’t even blink as he gathered the scattered bones greedily.

“Looks like thistlewood? Probably used for some sort of poison antidote.”

“Stupid, dog-boy. You have said everything could be used for an antidote,” Anike shot with indifference.

“Not my fault almost everything can be, ” he responded with a smirk.

“Actually you eat it,” Charlie said standing to hand it over the fire to the blond. “Want to try and see? It won’t kill you or get you pissed. Don’t be a coward.”

Hermione recognized that smile. It was the same one Fred and George would have right before everything went to hell.

“Hardly. However, if it will free me from you pathetic lot, I hope it kills me.” Malfoy’s hand shot out and snatched the leaf away. With only a second’s thought he popped it in his mouth and swallowed. They waited in expectation for the outcome, only for nothing to appear.

“See it doesn’t do anything. And you call yourself a-” Magic crackled for a second before Malfoy was flung forward by an invisible hand. He stumbled straight into the fire before Hermione could pull out her wand. Her sheer panic was erased by Charlie’s hearty laugh and Malfoy’s controlled but angered cursing.

“That could have killed me you know.” He stood in the flames as he dusted off his robes, there were large smudges of ash on his face and hands but he was otherwise unharmed.

“And it still may, the effects only last a few seconds,” Charlie responded as Malfoy quickly jumped out of the fire, the bottom of his robes smoldering. 

“You son of bitch!” He dove at the older man and the whole thing devolved into a tangle of limbs and dirt.

“He seems easier to stomach,” Anike offered from her spot. “Are you staying the night?”

“You have him all to yourself. We need to get home.” Hermione grinned at the embarrassed smile that crossed her friend's face. Charlie seemed a bit old for her, but what was a 10 year difference to wizards who lived to be over 100. At least they had a lot in common.

"I wish you would but if you insist," Anike commented conspiratorial as the kerfuffle died down. “I feel as if I got the better end of the deal.” 

“If you boys are done we should head home.” She hadn’t intended to stay so long, but between the recovery time for her magic and the genuinely good time she was having, the night had slipped away. It had been so long since she had sat around and just existed normally... Well if ceremonially murdering a dragon was normal.

“Finally! Well Weasley, I can definitely say you are the best of a bad lot.” The older man shot a quick hit to his chest. Judging by the thunk it made Hermione was sure there would be a bruise in the morning.

“Tuna-breath,” Malfoy remarked slightly nodding his head at Anike who stared at him in confusion.

“What is a tuna?” Anike asked Charlie as he settled next to her.

Hermione pulled Malfoy along before a new fight could start, yelling her goodbyes over her shoulder.

“You can stop pushing me Granger I know how to walk,” he teased as her arms fell to her sides.

“Did you learn to do that before or after you fell into the fire?” she responded skipping past him and towards Ignatius’ cave. She had warned Charlie not to help the dragon clean out his eyes earlier and hoped he followed her advice.

“The toff pushed me,” Malfoy scoffed as he followed behind her. The waxing moon provided enough light for them to snake between the trees if they were careful to watch for roots. The silence dragged on comfortably until an owl hooted in the distance.

“Well, I assume you have questions,” she ventured.

“Bloody right I do. You just had me slay a dragon.” His statement was part horror and part pride. Of course he would take the ego boost on it.

“Okay, shoot. I am your teacher after all.” She smiled as she pictured the sneer on his face wiping away all images of glory.

“I can respect that she wanted to die with dignity. There is nobility in that. But why involve wizards in this? Why didn’t the other dragons just finish her off if they were going to eat her anyway,” Hermione sighed at the lack of empathy.

“They share all of the deceased one’s memories. They will not eat another dragon until it’s dead. To kill a dying one would be disgraceful. Do you want to have a memory of being eaten by yourself? It’s in their code, feel free to question it.”

“Fine, so what happened before you magically stumbled into Romania? Certainly they couldn’t just happen upon any wizard and humbly request a mercy killing.” 

“They didn’t get one. Dragons very rarely make it to that age. Most die young or in territory wars, occasionally by wizards. Elders would just slowly waste away.” It felt somewhat clinical to answer the rapid fire questions with such indifference, but that is what let her be a part of the whole thing.

“Morbid. When did you learn legilimency?”

“Pardon?” She turned back, offended by the very idea.

“You insert that memory of flying back into her mind. It was so real, it was like she was there.”

“How did you-”

“I saw it, obviously.” Hermione was deeply unsettled that he had so easily rooted around in her brain undetected. She mentally threw up shields as she eyed him suspiciously. How many times had he popped in for a look-see without her knowing?

“Relax Granger,” he commented as he rolled his neck. “I have better things to do than read your lovesick thoughts about the wonder twins. It was the first time I bothered to look.”

“And it better be the last. I will hex you,” she threatened with a growl thinking of complex arithmency problems.

“Fine with me. You are dreadfully boring outside, I imagine that the only darkness in your mind is full of nightmares about missing exams.” She whipped around and stalked off, making a note to read up on better ways to sense his presence. She couldn’t have her guard up all of the time and needed to know how to detect him.

“Next question,” she shot tartly.

“You didn’t answer that one.” 

“It’s not legilimency,” she sighed out in response. Silence fell as she worked out exactly how to word it. “It’s more like planting a thought. Like a pensive, but older. The dragons taught me, they're the ones who made them after all.”

“Made what?”

“Pensieves.”

“I don’t follow.” He let out puff of air as he tripped over a thick rock.

“Well, when you are a creature who can only pass on memories through being eaten and those memories are integral to your world view what happens when there are no other dragons around when you die?”

“The memories disappear,” Draco responded bluntly.

“Exactly. The first pensive was created in a cave that a dragon had been blocked in. He knew he was going to die so he pulled the memories from his mind and placed them in a pool. Eventually the cave had reopened another dragon found the water and drank it. Why do you think there is a dragon carved on every pensive?”

“I can’t say I have noticed,” he responded. They marched in silence for awhile while he considered the new information.

“So why don’t you talk to the Ginger Buffoon anymore?” The question came out of left field and she chose to ignore it. “Bad break up? He finally catch on to you and Potter?”

“What makes you think I don’t talk to Ron anymore?” She held back a branch extra long so that it would fling back in his face. Unfortunately he caught it.

“Well considering I have been at your place on and off for over two months and haven’t seen so much as one exploded potion I think it’s safe to say he hasn’t visited. And judging by the carefully dodged topics of the war and school tonight I would say 'The Decent Weasley' knows that you don’t.”

“I don’t see how it’s any concern of yours,” she grumbled out as they began their climb to the cave. She was dreadfully knackered and more than ready to fall into bed.

“It’s not, I would just rather have a hex ready when the idiot stumbles into my office when he finds out we have been _so_ enjoying one another company.” She allowed herself to bask in the satisfaction as she heard Malfoy slip and curse.

“Charlie won’t tell. So unless you are sharing tea cakes with Ron and let it slip, you’re safe.” She pulled herself over the side of the wall and double checked that her bag was still attached at her hip. Their prize was waiting inside the charmed bag and Malfoy may actually just kill her if she lost it.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“I am not inclined to answer personal questions.” Deciding to be the bigger person she pulled the boy over the edge by his robes, letting him roll safely onto the ledge. She looked out over the valley admiring the view. Hopefully it would be a long time before she came back. It was not every year a dragon lived until old age.

“Fine. I don’t really care. I was just making conversation, maybe I could help you identify why you can't hold on to a man.”

“God you are such an ass,” she chuckled as she began to wander inside.

“See... the insults. Not sexy believe it or not.” 

0000000000000000000000000

When the smoke cleared Granger was hard at work, pouring green goo from one container into a muddy brown liquid. He dropped his coat and bag on the floor before slowly wandering over to her.

“One second,” she breathed out with precise concentration. It took all of his self control not to try to startle her and make her drop it. The only thing stopping him was the concern that if it was explosive he was in range. 

“You should be pouring the liquid into the slime.” He smiled victoriously as she paused and sighed. She flipped the two ingredients preventing any back-splash. When she set down glasses she looked up to face him.

“Well this is a surprise, I didn’t expect you for at least three more days.” 

“I wanted to finish transcribing that book I found yesterday. Plus I won’t come Sunday, I am busy.” After a few days recovery from the Romanian trip he wandered in to find the witch hard at work stirring a bubbling cauldron. His search of her library paid dividends as he found a particularly old grimoire she had laid out for him. It was handwritten and the pages were so delicate that flooing anywhere with it was clearly out of the question. His attempt to duplicate it only amounted to a blank book with a beat up cover and crumbling parchment, so transcription was the only option.

“I thought you may find it interesting,” she responded clearly hinting that he should just tell her about Blaise. Something he pointedly ignored. “What are you working on?”

He debated on not telling her, but considering she could yank his library card at any moment, he decided to be forthcoming.

“A gladiator elixir. Apparently it makes your limbs stronger than titanium for a limited time.” He wandered towards where his materials still sat by the nook in the window. A scowl set into his face when he noticed the cat in his spot.

“Oh yes, I recall that. I think it was used in the magical Olympics historically, but I never brewed it. Let me know how it goes.” And with that they settled comfortably into their slightly awkward but no longer frigid routine. It was a few hours later that a loud ping interrupted the sounds of paper shifting and potion brewing.

“What was that?” he questioned as Hermione scurried over to a cauldron set to boil. It looked to be in the finishing stages and was the same thing she had been working on the last few visits.

“It’s finally done!” With a pair of wooden tongs she reached into the mild yellow liquid and extracted what looked to be a very wet robe. He took a break from his work and wandered over.

“What is- oh.” He stared over her shoulder as she spun the dragonhide around the tongs as if it were silk, the thin skin had become near transparent and the scales were as flexible as rubber.

She hauled the soaking wet length onto a nearby table, clipping on hooks at each corner. With a wave of her wand the hooks hauled themselves upwards and away, attaching to the rafters in front of her storage shelves. She nudged him out of the way as she scurried over to the hide, clipping the bottom corners in place near the floor.

“It’s a beautiful specimen isn’t it?” she questioned staring up in appreciation. “Charlie gets me whatever shed scales he can find but it’s something else entirely to be staring at the whole thing.”

“That we can agree on.” The cannibalistic drakes had left the skin of the torso and tail whole for them and the cooking had shrunk it heavily. Even so, it spanned a bit over 6 meters and about half as wide. The dark scales seemed to absorb light, blacking out that area of her room. “Thing must be worth a bloody fortune to a collector. Pity all those components are going to be wasted as a rug.”

“Oh, no they’re not.” She smiled in an attempt at alluring. It certainly meant nothing good for him. “You are going to remove the scales. One by one.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” he scoffed staring at the hundreds of scales in front of him. Dragon scales were damn near indestructible and almost entirely impervious to magic, as he had demonstrated. Two weeks later and he was just now getting back to normal. The only non-synthetic scales on the market came from dragon breeders who had the luck to find a shed scale. In light of those facts he glanced at her face, which had not changed. “You aren’t joking.”

“The acid wash has loosened them from the skin, it’ll take some elbow grease but they’ll come off just fine. Once you’re done we’ll soak the individual scales again to get them consistent and brittle before pounding them into a convenient powder.” 

“You skin blood-thirsty beasts often?” he questioned staring at the monumental task in front of them.

“Not really but the other time I had to pick either the bones and the scale so this is quite the treat to get both.” She spun away to the other cauldron resting on her main fire and gave a stir. He guessed it contained the bones.

“And I suppose I am just supposed to ask nicely for the scales to fall off?” he responded as he grabbed a thumbnail sized one giving it a yank. He hissed as it slid through his fingers like water, leaving a near invisible cut that took a few seconds to bleed.

Hermione sighed as she returned, grabbing his hand. He swiftly pulled it away with a sneer, drawing his own wand for a quick healing spell.

“If you are done being foolish. _Bombarda Maxima!”_ The tip of her wand sparked red as the curse smacked into the same scale with a thud. The tapestry shifted but settled back to stillness unharmed. She flicked the scale upwards with her wand as it gently detached from the hide.

“You’ll have to do each scale individually of course. And the bigger they get, the more hits they will take.” She pressed the small scale into his open hand with a devious smile. “Have fun working out your anger. You need it.”

“You cannot be serious; this will take so much magic and time.” He was tempted to just throw out the curse to prove his point.

“Just head over and work on it a few minutes multiple times a day. It’ll give your magic time to recover plus some free therapy.” She left him with a swish of her robes. 

“And what exactly will you be doing?” he questioned haughtily as the witch fished out a large white vertebrae from the cauldron and poked it.

“This, plus making the dissolution bath. Unless you want to- oh wait, you don’t know how.” Her taunting smile annoyed the crap out of him. Taking the moment he focused on the skin aiming for a medium sized scale. 

“ _Bombarda Maxima!”_ The workshop echoed with a satisfying boom before the clatter of a scale falling to the ground broke it.

“Oh yes, multiple hits. I can see how you would have difficulty with it Granger.” He smiled smugly back at the witch who just huffed and was suddenly very interested in her pot of bones. If she wanted to play this way, fine. They would just see who was a better caster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pensive Memories  
> When viewing memories in the pensive they are always presented as removed. When watching someone else's memories its like watching a play you can't interact with. The dragons use the same sort of magic but due to it's raw form its a direct one to one on the memory. Whatever happened to the person in the memory, you feel. You are the person, you are there.
> 
> Potion Brewing tips  
> Always add your liquid to your solids. Particularly with acids.
> 
> Magical Olympics  
> Similar tot he standard Olympics however magic is able to be used up until the start of the event. The competition is based on creativity and how to translate that into a win. For example lifting a boulder. One could use a gladiator potion or they could also cast a levitation charm. Or if they were better with transfiguration turn it into a pillow.
> 
> Dragon Scales Dragon Scales  
> Dragon scales are notoriously hard and resistant to magic and physical manipulation. As such most the powdered dragon scales found in potion making are synthetic or are from less magical large reptiles. The scales weaken when soaked in an acid over time and can be ground into a fine powder.


	21. A Crack in the Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so late in the day. It's my birthday.

"One standard termination potion. Try to be more careful in the future." Draco stared at the man in front of his desk. This man didn't get a chair.

"Well, uh yes." The older male was portly and short, hardly one Draco wanted to be thinking about in any reproductive capacity. He was a new client to this office, only in on the recommendation of one of Draco's other private consults. The man was wringing his hands while staring at the potion on his desk but not taking it.

"Is there something else I can help you with?" It was a fairly controversial potion but available in most any shop if inquired about. He supposed than the politician in front of him hardly wanted to be seen buying it, thus how he ended up in Draco's office at an exorbitant cost for secrecy.

"What do I mix it with?" the man questioned.

"Mix it with?" Draco questioned with one eyebrow raised. "It is already liquefied."

"No I meant...You know…" Draco didn't know so he just pegged the man with one of his best annoyed looks. This is why he never took walk-ins.

"So she won't taste it," the man responded in a hushed whisper. Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"It doesn't have a flavor. It can just be taken as is. She doesn't need to worry about an aftertaste." The man still didn't grab the bottle.

"For Merlin's sake. What. Is. It?" he spat out.

"Will it change colors or anything? If I add it to a liquid?" Draco sighed in exasperation. He did not like where this was going.

"Yes, it becomes light pink. Any other stupid questions?"

"So then how can I hide it?" the man questioned.

"Hide it? Why on earth would you need to hide it. Just give the woman the bottle and tell her to drink. It doesn't hurt or taste awful, she has nothing to worry about."

"But she wants to keep the damn thing. I need to slip it into her afternoon tea-" Draco stilled, immediately vanishing the bottle from his desk. The man jumped as his potion disappeared.

"Out," Draco commanded, his voice devoid of emotion of any sort.

"I don't think you get to command me like that," the man responded pulling up an air of self importance from the dredges of his cowardice.

"Get. Out." The man was cut off and Draco forced himself not to grind his teeth.

"Oh and you are so innocent? Who are you to judge me, you insolent little pup? I have seen your father do things that would make your skin crawl."

"Get out of my office or I will throw you out. Ideally through that large pane window, after removing your wand. Out!"

"Oh so the Death Eater has a conscious now. Well isn't that sweet-" The coward in front of him cringed as Draco's control slipped. His magic blew open the doors to his office, producing a loud bang. The bottom-feeder took one last look at the empty space on the desk before tearing away.

"Marie, make a note to never accept referrals from Mr. Scott again," he called out standing up with a swift jerk and grabbing a handful of floo powder. "I'm taking five."

00000000000000000000

Hermione jumped as the rumbling thunder of the floo echoed into her workshop. The flames had barely died down when a scowling Malfoy stomped out. He swiftly crossed the room and stood in front of the dragon pelt.

"Oh, Malfoy... I wasn't really expecting you-"

" _Bombarda Maxima_!" The targeted scale pinged as it hit the ground and was quickly followed by another curse. By the fifth he was out of breath. She stared at him as he pushed his hair back from his face and readjusted his tie.

"Granger," he offered by way of greeting before waltzing back to the floo. Just as suddenly as he had come he was gone in a burst of flames and smoke.

That would be about how the rest of the week went for Hermione. She would be working on a side project or monitoring their dissolution potion and he would appear randomly. Occasionally with a message and a few pleasantries. More often in a rage and storm of curses before retreating. It was the oddest thing.

In spite of seeing him more than often enough for the vow, she would sneak off to his study during the day when he was at work to duplicate whatever holes she had in her library, leaving the time consuming transcriptions for later. Rarely she heard shuffling noises outside of his study but no one ever entered. The house elf was happy to leave her be after a cursory check-in which suited her just fine.

He would swing by roughly every other day after work to play with whatever potion he was researching at the time. Sometimes he would brew it there leaving a sample for her opinion. Other times he came back smelling of failed concoctions and in search of a new recipe. In between the magic draining processes of both the physical curses and the mental workload of brewing they had even had a civil discussion or two.

"I didn't know you had a Mastery Granger." She was deeply focused on ensuring only one single drop of frogspit tipped out of the container into the cauldron in front of her. She didn't bother to look up when she spoke and barely had enough thought process to respond.

"Hm, oh that."

"Yes, oh that. And why is your certificate serving as a coaster." She heard a wild flapping of paper and risked a glance up. He was laying back on the couch opposite her holding the mangled paper up to the light. The gold filigree of _Master Potioneer_ flickered with the movement.

"I don't particularly care about it. You can have it if you want."

"Hardly," Draco responded with a scoff. "I have my own. I am just surprised someone as talentless as you managed to receive accreditation."

"That's a pretty bold statement from someone who earned his with an erectile dysfunction potion," she responded, cocking a half smile. When she heard the 'unprecedented commercial success' of his break out creation a few years ago she nearly laughed herself into St. Mungo's. Even if it was a remarkably skillful potion. "The muggles have been treating that for ages."

"Oh, and what exactly did you make Miss Holier-than-thou? I never read so much as a snippet about yours." Hermione ignored the poisonous glare he sent her way, choosing instead to commit to the risk and tilting the bottle.

"A derivative of dreamless sleep." She swore as the liquid rushed from the bottle before she could stop it, dosing the potion with 3 times what she needed. She repressed a temper tantrum and settled on a deep sigh. "Now look what you did, I will have to start all over."

"Sounds deeply fascinating. Completely explains why they are screaming your names from the rooftop," he responded smugly, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

"Elixir of Lucidity. It was a bat-hair-based potion that allowed the recipient to control their dreams." She vanished the liquid from her cauldron, taking the moment to stare at the empty black base. November had slipped by to nearly nothing and a cold winter draft tickled the back of her neck.

"Why did I never hear of it?"

"Because you're stuck so far up your own arse that you don't know if it's day or night," she responded with a sugar sweet smile.

"Incorrect, once again Granger. I have read every major publication to hit the market since 1981. This says you earned your title in 99'."

"It went mostly unnoticed, I didn't even want to publish. Headmistress McGonagall insisted." Her shoulders ached from all the bench work. She would need to take a bath later. "The ministry wanted to use it to produce confessions from dark wizards who had been obviated. Problem was that those memories couldn't always have the reality separated from the dream. So it fell more into the category of a novelty potion, and was forgotten."

"Why make it if you didn't intend to publish?" he questioned as he further examined her certificate as if it would provide the answers he wanted.

"It was just a project of mine," she responded quickly.

"I hate to say it. But that's fairly impressive, memory research is terribly tricky. Give me the recipe so I can fiddle with it." The creaking in the floor indicated he had recovered enough to stand. She watched him shake out his muscles before depositing his hands casually into his pockets.

"Would it kill you to say 'please' for once?" He stared at the ceiling for a moment before turning directly to her.

"Give me the recipe and it will _please_ me." His smirk had become less infuriating and more of a source of exasperation. She rolled her eyes and drew forth a copy of the recipe from her library before sending it over.

"You are incorrigible," Hermione responded with a chuckle.

"And late. But you never complain about that," he responded glancing at his watch with a scowl. He grabbed the parchment from the air and strolled over to the fireplace. "Maybe I will be back after my meeting."

"At least send a message this time. I am going to hex you out of surprise one of these days if you keep charging into my living room firing curses." Her request was lost to the roar of the floo and she couldn't help but smile as she shook her head. She did not know how and he may not know yet, but somehow, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy had become friends.

00000000000000000000000000000

She had never seen him on a Sunday. Not once since she pulled him to her that one day he was literally killing her. She never questioned why, even God rested on the seventh day. If he wanted a day off it was more than fair. In the 4 months that had passed between them Sunday was the only day she could be sure he would never be there.

Which was why she was curled up in her armchair in a baggy oversized t-shirt reading a crappy muggle romance novel and sighing over extremely dramatic love affairs. The floo flared and her shields were up before the flames even crested. She snatched at her wand, wildly brandishing it ahead of her ready to fire.

" _Bombarda Maxima!_ " The curse flung by her ear, fast enough she could feel the waves of magic ripple around her, passing like cool water. It missed her by inches as she dove behind her couch, covering her head from the resulting explosion behind her.

" _Incarcerous._ " She fired the binding curse over the chair without looking. She was rewarded with a clatter of a wand but also the disappointment of silk ropes falling with a thud to the floor.

" _Bombarda Maxima!_ " The curse flew over her previous spot landing with another explosion. She rolled from behind her cover with her wand leveled at the attacker but the curse died on her lips. Malfoy wasn't even aware of her as he stalked forward, throwing curses with rough gestures of his hand and a gut wrenching incantation. " _Bombarda Maxima! Bombarda Maxima!_ "

She had seen blind rage before and knew it was fruitless to stop him, he didn't even know she was there. Instead she straightened herself, picked up his wand and waited behind him. He had stopped just short of the skin and was still slinging curses.

His eyes were burningly apocalyptic with a snarl etched on his face that would be enough to send a Boggart back to its cupboard. His tie was loosely hanging around his neck, the knot pulled tight, like he had tried to rip it off. By the ninth curse he was out of steam, unable to mutter out the incantation. He had fallen to his knees, arm outstretched.

" _Bombarda! Reducto! Confringo!_ " All of the spells died as sparks at the tips of his fingers. At that point she intervened, soon the spells would start rebounding and he would be of no use without a hand.

"There, there."

She crouched slightly as she approached him, uttering the words so that she wouldn't surprise him. It reminded her of the time she and her father found a fox in a trap on a camping trip. He had been so quiet and gentle with the frightened creature but still walked away bitten.

"Malfoy? Are you there?" He didn't respond. "Draco?"

His eyes shot to hers, a panicked mix of frightened, angry, and hurt.

"It's me Draco. Hermione. I'm going to touch you now." Her left arm reached out slowly towards his back, her right arm prepared with her wand. He tensed and looked away as it landed in between his shoulder blades. Slowly, she rubbed up and down along his spine, letting the heat of his body flush against her cool skin.

"Granger. I- I didn't mean..." His words were punctuated by his breaths. His back still heaved up and down with exertion. Moving swiftly, she swept underneath his arm just as his knees gave out.

"Are you finished?" she questioned adjusting to a crouch for better leverage. He was staring at the floor, his eyes clouded.

"Yeah. I'm finished."

"Okay," he groaned as she hauled him up. Malfoy had never been strong, he didn't need to be with his skill of words and wand. While he wasn't stick, he was definitely lean. The only muscle on his body was what actually needed to be there. His height was cumbersome as she dragged his tripping legs back to the couch. "Down you go."

She lowered him into a seated position, falling next to him out of breath herself. They stared at the ceiling, ragged breaths slowly returning to normal.

"Did I hit you?" he questioned at a near whisper.

"No, I got clear after the first one."

"I didn't even see you. I swear."

"Clearly." She shook loose his arm from around her shoulder and stood up. "Do you want to tell me what happened there?"

"Bad day." He didn't bother meeting her eyes.

"Oh no. You definitely don't get a pass with 'bad day'. You could have killed me. Why are you even here? It's Sunday."

"I'm sorry. " Even the apology wasn't enough.

"Sorry doesn't cut it. You flew in here cursing like someone has murdered your mother and nearly blown up my head. You bellend."

"I didnt-" he hissed and pulled his arm to his chest. Completely done with the whole situation she snatched it before he could hide it and ripped down his sleeve. A thick spider web of angry red welts spanned from his wrist to his forearm, scratching over the remnants of his dark mark.

"Bloody idiot," she huffed, stalking over to her potions cabinet and shuffling around her assorted bottles. Every time she opened the damned thing she thought about how she needed to organize it. She grabbed a burn salve, bringing it back over to the couch. "I thought I was done with the part of my life where I patched up stupid boys."

"Better never have kids then." He reached for the potion but she pulled it away with a scoff.

"What are you simple? Don't touch it." She dipped her wand into the container muttering a small activation spell, warming it enough to not freeze. Using her wand she spread it over the wound, braiding in a weak healing spell.

"Thanks," he grumbled as she finished.

"It comes at a charge." She crossed her arms expectantly. Apparently finding nowhere else to stare he finally met her gaze. His eyes were exhausted, tinged with a hint of sadness.

"Do you take galleons?" Her scoff was all the answer he needed. Instead he just sighed in resignation and answered. "Failure. I failed her."

"Who?" Hermione asked,

"No one, everyone. Don't worry about it. It's just, old demons and ancient mistakes."

"The war?" she questioned as she settled back into the couch next to him. She almost regretted bringing it up, she spent enough time reviewing it on her own.

"Yeah."

"It never goes away does it?" she questioned, staring at the tilted over wineglass on the table. The dripping shiraz reminded her of blood and she was suddenly not that disappointed to lose it.

"Not for me. Because big fucking surprise Granger," he growled out, but his heart was not in it. "Some people didn't come out of that war and I think I am one of them. Everyone thinks I'm better. Everyone thinks I'm fine..."

"And you're not," she finished for him, pulling up her knees.

"Not even fucking close."

She wanted to offer him solace and flowery platitudes but couldn't stomach the idea. She had heard them all herself thousands of times but they didn't bring anyone back. She couldn't look at him.

"You will be; well, maybe not fine. We're all damaged goods at this point. But you will get to okay, in time."

"How much time?" he questioned. The anguish in his voice clawed at her soul, but that didn't change the fact that he played such a large role in her own struggle.

"Couldn't say," she sighed, trying to let go. She forced a fake smile, turning to meet his eyes. "I'll let you know when I figure it out."

"I'll be dead of old age by then," he quipped shakily.

They sat in silence, letting the words hang in the air. If she were the same person she had been 6 years ago, she may have found space in her heart to forgive him. She may even hold him, gifting him the comfort he so desperately needed. But as it was the best she could do was throw him a life preserver and hope he could swim.

She wasn't sure when night fell. She wasn't even sure how long she had been sitting there with him. It was only Crookshanks yowling at his bowl that spurred her to get up. The man next to her had fallen into an exhausted sleep, his magic drained past any level of consciousness.

She was no better herself. Her own body was cramped and her mind emotionally spent. She glanced at the blanket she had draped over the armchair and floated it over the Draco, allowing him his sleep.

It was only as she picked up her book she realized she had used his wand. With a sigh she placed it on the table in front of him for him to find when he woke up. She quickly fed her charge before stumbling over to her loft. Implications looked so much worse in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om:
> 
> Wand Sharing
> 
> Wands in general cannot be shared. However, as people spend more and more time around each other their magic can be intertwined and allow for higher chances of the wand allowing it. As such partners and family members can manage some level of use from each others wands.
> 
> Mastery Mayhem:
> 
> A mastery can only be given to someone who makes huge advances in the field, creates a new 'useful' potion, or heavily alters a potion to life changing effectiveness.
> 
> Curses. Damnable curses:
> 
> Magic of course has a limit. When using to much magic at one time it can lead to magical exhaustion. This results in the spells failing and after a short time they will snap back on the caster. Curses in particular use a lot of magic.


	22. A Neglected Subject

Draco woke with a groan. His neck pinched unpleasantly and his shoulders felt like they were made of stone. His entire body was positively weak, down to the very bone. It was only the unfamiliar warm spot on his lap that forced him to acknowledge there was any point to consciousness.

Now Draco had woken up to a lot of morning surprises throughout the years but Granger’s cat was one of the most unexpected. When he wedged his eyes open the beast was curled up comfortably in between his legs blocking off at least half of his uncomfortable 'bed'. It had curled into the dark red afghan he must have pulled over himself in his sleep, looking like a perfect round ball with it's small pink nosed tucked firmly into its tail. The creature opened its eyes in greeting before returning to its nap.

A quick glance at his watch and he knew it was going to be a bad day. He was late. He hadn’t intended to stay of course. He hadn’t even intended to come to her place. He certainly hadn’t intended to throw a tantrum and nearly kill the poor witch. His face flushed deeply. It was one thing to be embarrassed and act like a child. It was a whole other situation to nearly kill someone in a rage. It was not only shameful, it was borderline unstable. Thankfully he couldn't visualize the look of unadulterated fear that she had certainly experienced. He had enough of those to last a lifetime.

Spying his wand on the table in front of him and quickly looking for an escape, he scooped the cat off him to a meow of protest. He heard the subtle shifting of sheets from above the library and froze. Sneaking out was a specialty of his, but not usually like this.

The cat met his gaze in faux understanding before swishing off to join its master, apparently comforting her in the process, as the movement ceased. He made a mental note to save his leftovers from his next fish dinner. 

Snatching his wand he shuffled over to the floo. The mortification was still thick on his mind but something still stopped him as he reached for the powder. It felt wrong to just leave after that. It felt too much like running away. And oddly enough, it felt like he owed her more than that.

“ _Memando,”_ He whispered his note into his wand to let her know he headed home. Thinking of nothing else to add he cut the incantation short and pushed through the magic to seal it. The little ball of light sprouted from the tip of his wand with a burst of warmth (and for some reason cinnamon). The happy sphere floated away to her desk where it dulled to its resting state. Waiting for her to wake up. He would deal with whatever _that_ was later, there was a bigger problem waiting.

With an unnecessarily violent toss of the powder he stepped into the floo, wondering if it would wake her. The thought was immediately erased from his mind as he felt a foreign presence touch it. He threw up his mental shields a moment later, wand prepared to curse someone.

Turning out that angry presence was sitting on the calmly on couch of his living with his legs crossed looking rather stormy.

“You’re late.” Blaise was dressed for the day but lacked any sort of sunny disposition.

“Am I? Well help yourself to my fridge then if you already haven't.” Taking a glance down at his rumpled clothes he headed towards the bedroom. 

“Of course I haven't. We were supposed to get breakfast a half an hour ago,” Blaise responded hotly as he followed Draco into his room.

“I know. I was out. I do have a new potion for you: Titanium Bones.”

He offered the vial he and Hermione had perfected last week. Dracoe didn't have too high of hopes for it but it was better than nothing. He was going to owl it over yesterday before...

“Later. What’s going on with you lately?” Draco was held by his shoulder in a way that made his neck scream in protest. He was exhausted and really didn’t have the time or energy for this right now. He had a meeting at the ministry in an hour. “I mean, I am not your mother, I don’t care where you are all of the time. But Theo says you missed a dinner with him and you’ve canceled on me twice in the past week. You let me run out of pain potion last Friday, and I know you don’t need to take care of that for me but still. You are gone on lunch breaks, your office is empty half of the time. You’re constantly disappearing and- is that cat hair?”

Draco looked down at his black slacks that had indeed managed to pick up a large amount of red cat hair. “I suppose it it.”

“Theo’s right.” Blaise instantly relaxed, his shoulders falling back and a smile slipping onto his face. “You found a woman.”

“Theo is a nosy bastard,” Draco scoffed at the idea of sneaking off to Hermione’s house for a quicky and barely contained his eye roll. “I always have a woman.”

“No. You always have flings,” Blaise corrected, much to smugly for his own good. “And you always tell us about them. You are hiding her. Why? Is she too pretty?... Too ugly?”

“Too non-existent,” Draco responded, picking out a change of clothes. Going out for their weekly breakfast was off the table. “Pinky, bring us breakfast.”

“How unlike you to be so defensive. She must be something special. Or shameful. God, you aren’t together with Pansy again are you?” Blaise crumpled his face in distaste. Draco couldn’t blame him, in small doses she was tolerable. Any more than that was grating.

“I was just working on the potion. How’s this weekend to try?” He shrugged off the conversation hoping that it would be the end of it. With a crack, Pinky appeared with full English on a tea cart.

“Fine. It’s just, you've been weird for the past few months. We’re worried about you.” Blaise snatched a muffin and sausage from the tray. “Let us know you’re alive every once in awhile deal?”

“Deal.” Draco had been far too wrapped up in his research lately. It didn’t help that every time he showed up at Granger’s to burn off some steam the temptation to just skim a few more pages was staring him in the face. If the Titanium potion didn’t work he had back ups. He was almost done with the scales though, so hopefully he’d be over less. “It should be over soon.”

“That will have to do. Anyway, let’s talk about our new hair treatment line.” Blaise started off on a ramble, clearly the allotted time for their social part of the morning was up and it was time to do some work. As Draco sat down to breakfast a nagging, uncharacteristic sentiment bubbled up.

“Blaise.”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for checking in.” His friend stared at him like he had swallowed a niffler. The dark haired wizard slowly shook his head, a small sad smile creeping on his face.

“Whatever, namby pamby. We’ve got work to do.” 

00000000000000000000

“I just don’t see why dried would be better than fresh.” Granger mused from her spot above him.

“The oils concentrate making it much more potent that way... Obviously,” he responded with a disdain that even Snape would have been proud of.

“I am aware of that,” she gritted out as she dug her scraper into the large glowing crystal hanging from the ceiling. “I meant that the variation caused by the substitution would be wildly unpredictable.”

“Unless you are familiar enough with the potion to know how much it needs,” he shot back scraping down his own crystal into the waiting vial. The silver mold disintegrated into a beautiful shimmering powder that twinkled in the ambient green light.

“And if you aren’t, you botch the potion or kill the recipient. Spiderfang is not a very forgiving plant,” she yelped and he nearly fell off his ladder when he spun to look at her. She had moved onto swearing and was holding her hand close to her chest.

“Did you seriously just stab yourself?” Draco asked shimmying down his ladder. “Honestly, Granger-”

“It’s not that bad, I just- ow.” She shivered on the ladder and Draco managed to pull out his wand just in time to catch her as her body went limp.

“Oh how sweet, I have you walking on air do I?” he mused to himself. There was no real cause for alarm. Some of the Quicksilver dust must have entered her bloodstream, causing a temporary paralysis. 

“Brave words for a man levitating a ragdoll. Set me down please, I’m going to be sick.” Her face took on a pale coloring and he quickly did so. Levitation was hard when you were conscious. He settled down next to her pulling her arm into his lap and cast a quick lumos.

“That’s pretty deep,” he stated as he examined the gash across her hand. While not down to the bone he was fairly certain he saw muscle tissue. The wound ended at the base of her palm and had already soaked through the cuff of her sleeve. She had stopped wearing long sleeves around him, but apparently had elected to cover her scar for the two in-house residents. Guilt flooded him all over again, made worse by the pooling blood.

“I don’t think an _Episkey_ will do it, I’ll just keep bleeding under it,” she huffed from her position awkwardly propped up against the wall.

“Hermione!” Longbottom’s voice boomed from deeper down in the cave. “I found some Centimander legs. Did you still need some?”

“Yeah! I’m a bit injured though. Do you have any healing paste?” she called back, her head lolling to the side comically as she did so. Mostly out of mercy Draco corrected it to a somewhat more comfortable position, facing straight forward.

“Up at the house. I’m a bit preoccupied right now though,” Longbottom called back, voice distorted by an odd blubbering.

“Can I send Draco?” she shouted to no response.

“Should I go check on him?” he asked with only mild disgust. The truth was that Longbottom had been growing more tolerant of his presence and the greenhouse was quite amazing. He hoped to garner enough favor with the couple to arrange a partnership of some kind by the end of all this.

“Best not,” Granger responded, pulling her eyes up to meet his. “I find that usually anything he’s working with is not something that should be interrupted. Just keep an eye out for Luna, I think Neville said she was up working on her book today.”

Draco nodded and stepped away to a polite distance. Over the last few visits he had learned the various apparitions points of the front half of the greenhouse. Snow crunched under his feet for a brief moment followed by sand, rock, grass, and finally the originating point in the rainforest.

Now that he was out of her sight he felt much more comfortable rushing, even if all the swift apparitions did make his head spin a bit. As he stumbled into the warm cottage, Draco quickly glanced around for the woman of the house. Unfortunately the warm kitchen was empty but for a dog sleeping roaring fire.

“Xeno? Mutt? Are you alive?” He risked a poke with his boot and was rewarded with a low growl. The man...dog, was warming up to him as well. “Not to disturb your very important guard duties but I need to find Luna.”

The dog eyed him for a moment before heaving out a huge sigh. It pulled its body up into a stretch and with a great lumbering motion hobbled off to a doorway deeper into the house.

While Draco usually didn’t follow animals assuming they were intelligent, the dog had once been a man and thus, Draco reasoned, would know where his daughter was. The hallway ended in three doors and Xeno scratched tiredly at the left one before sliding past Draco and back to the kitchen.

“Lovegood?” he called rapping his knuckles on the door. He hoped it wasn’t a bathroom. “Lovegood...Her- Granger is hurt. I need a healing paste.”

No Answer.

“Lovegood?” He was growing impatient, even knowing Hermione wasn’t in any real danger. However, she _would_ be very uncomfortable until he got back. “I’m coming in.

The door creaked open to what appeared to be the blonde waif’s office, judging by the amount of misshapen stuffed animals and stacks of paper scattered about. He could just make out the girl in question by a twitching arm with mismatched nail polish that was thrown over the back of the couch.

“I knocked,” he offered waiting permission to enter. Dracp jumped as the arm shot back over. Thoroughly annoyed he stalked over to the couch ready to haul Luna over it. However, as he rounded the corner, he was met by a ghastly scene. The usually merry, if not a bit dotty, witch’s face was contorted into silent screams of pain. Her legs and arms twitched into random positions and she looked every bit like she was under the _cruciatus_ curse. Immediately on guard Draco spun, checking the room for the attacker only to meet empty air.

_Of course no one would be here. The place is a damned stronghold._ He admonished himself for his paranoia and instead assessed his options. Deciding there was no better option than straight forward he gripped her shoulders, shaking her firmly.

“LUNA!” he shouted, only for the sound to be absorbed by whatever was eating her screams. Thankfully, the movement was enough as her body stilled and her deep blue eyes opened slowly.

“Draco?” Her lips mouthed as big crystal tears collected in the corner of her eyes. Instantly uncomfortable he backpedaled, pulling himself straight.

“Are you okay?” he questioned, happy to hear his own voice again. Her lips moved again but he couldn’t quite make out what she was saying. “You aren’t making any sounds.”

She paused in confusion before grabbing her wand from the table and waving it in the air. A small sizzle of purple sparked in the air before disappearing.

“Oh, I am quite fine.” Her voice had returned to its usually airiness but her eyes were still blinking back tears. “Just a nightmare is all... I get them all the time.”

“You looked like you were under a _crucio_.” He held out a spare handkerchief to the girl, glad that for once his mother’s insistence to always have one on hand was rewarded.

“I was.”

Draco flinched as the girl drew her eyes down into her lap, her body folding in on itself. He hadn’t forgotten per say. He had just shoved so many of the horrors he had experienced to the back of his mind behind a very thick wall. So much so that he tended to overlook the fact that the Dark Lord had held Luna in his basement for months... And that his Aunt had been a frequent visitor.

“Right, I will go get Long- Neville.” 

“Don’t.” Her voice was barely a whisper, if the room hadn’t been silent he wouldn’t have heard it. “He knows. There’s nothing to be done.”

“I can’t get you anything?” he questioned, a bit too familiar with the night terrors himself. “Water? Tea?”

“No, I just- I just need to relax. Please hand me that book on Critted-Banded peacocks please. I think I have found a distant cousin living in Antarctica. I mean to plan an expedition once we find the funding.” The sniffles dried up, her usual ditziness returning but Draco was still concerned. That kind of fear didn’t just disappear when you rejoined the waking world, it lingered in the corner of the room, waiting to jump out at the smallest noise. Regardless he handed her the book. 

“I need healing paste,” he muttered out, still watching her as she stared astutely at the book.

“There is some in the kitchen to the left of the pantry. Please avoid the Marmats, they like to sleep on the empty shelves.” When he left the room she was still staring down at the book, her eyes not having read the first word.

He snatched the jar from the kitchen, nearly dropping it as a small smoke-based creature hissed out at him from the empty shelf. Draco slammed the door with a bit more force than necessary, hoping that whatever marmats were, they didn’t chase people. 

A few quick jumps and he was back to the cave, Granger was joined by a damp Longbottom, who was currently frowning at her hand.

“Luna is-” Draco muttered out. As quick as the words left his mouth his legs crumbled underneath him with the familiar tingle of the jelly-leg jinx. He barely caught the jar from crashing into the stone floor.

“What did you do?” Longbottom demaned, his wand leveled at Draco’s crumbled form. 

“Nothing. She was sleeping-” He flinched as the wizard leapt to his feet cursing.

“Nightmare?” he asked before muttering the countercurse to release Draco’s legs.

“Yes, she said not to tell you but-” He stopped as the other wizard’s stare met his. It had that knowing look that told him he didn’t really need to continue. 

“I have to go. Did you get-” Draco held up the paste as he picked himself up from the stone floor. “Right. Thanks.” 

With a loud crack he was gone. After a moment Granger sighed. “Did he release the jinx? I can’t see.”

Draco brushed off his robes with a grunt. She technically _could_ see him... if she could turn her head. “I’m fine. Here.”

“Thanks.”

With a careful hand he dabbed the musty green paste on her skin. It smelled like something dead but did work amazingly fast knitting up the wound with a speed many seamstresses would envy. When only a large pink scar remained he released her hand, settling beside her, prepared to wait out the effects of the Quicksilver.

“Was she okay?” Hermione asked as they both stared at the glowing crystal ceiling. The rocks glowed from within, teaming with magic sourced from the very earth itself.

“No,” he responded earnestly poking at her right pinky. He was pleased to see it twitch in response. 

“Let’s call it a day then.” They remained seated for a while, even after he saw Hermione draw her knees up to her chest.

000000000000

Her heart ached for her friends, both of them. By the time she and Draco picked up and apparated back to the house Neville was sitting in the kitchen staring down the hallway to Luna’s office. She silently prayed that Malfoy wouldn’t goad him as she poured Neville some tea from the kettle on the fire.

“How is she?” Hermione questioned, rubbing the man on the back.

“It’s not getting better,” he responded listlessly. “I always thought, the further away we got from everything… you know.”

“Does she take Dreamless Sleep?” Draco questioned as he joined the man at the table in slow careful movements. His eyes were focused on Neville’s face as he settled. Like how one would approach a wounded animal. She supposed it was fitting.

“She can’t,” Hermione responded, not sure he would get an answer otherwise. “She’s allergic to Valerian root.”

“Have you tried Dengue stalk? It’s a fair substitute.”

“It’s next to impossible to find,” Hermione said. She had tried to source it for years but all of the natural sources in Chile were owned by the government for internal use.

“I have some planted, but it will be two more years until they are ready,” Neville responded, steeling his shoulders. He stood abruptly, never touching the tea Hermione had gotten him. “I’m going back to work.”

She just sighed and looked at Draco despondently and flinching when the door slammed.

“Thanks for trying.”

“Does it happen a lot?” he questioned as he stared down the hallway.

“An amount,” she grimaced while rubbing her face. “Not as often as it used to be but she still can’t sleep at all at night. And it takes her sometimes during the day too.”

“I would have never guessed by looking at her,” he responded. His features flickered through a range of emotions she couldn’t read fast enough. “Do they have everything else needed other than the Dengue?”

“Between their stocks and mine; yes,” she regarded him in silence, waiting for his next move.

“I may have a source.” Hermione tried so desperately to remain calm, to shove that little spring violet of hope down her throat. Apparently she did not succeed. “Now calm down. I have to ask about it. I also don’t know how much they have.”

“Any price. I will pay it happily for any amount,” she responded instantly and she meant it. The trio did not bother keeping ledgers between them and she would happily take the financial responsibility. She owed them at least that much for their silence.

“It’s hardly a matter of price. Even if you could afford it. But there is a fair question of morals,” he said, rising and heading to the doorway lost in thought. 

“In what sort of way?” she questioned suspiciously as they made their way towards the gate. Something like stealing she could probably live with. Child labor would be a no.

“It’s growing in the greenhouse at Nottinghall.”

“Where?” she questioned trying to think of any place linked to the name.

“Theo’s house.”

000000000000000000000000000000000000000

He couldn’t just let the starry-eyed dope fade away like an overused candle. In spite of himself he had really grown to appreciate the misplaced Ravenclaw with her mad rambles and cheerful delusions. He supposed she was easy to like because she was so simple that way. Plus she may be the last dredge of family he had left, even distantly.

“If you really don't mind asking,” Hermione’s muttering pulled him out of his train of thought. He had just been about to throw the powder into the floo. “ I know she’s not really your friend.”

Draco wondered if he had heard her scream back then. Could he pick it out from the other ones that echoed the halls of his home? What if he had tried to save her? Would it have made it worse or better? Had she always been this flighty before her torturous stay at Malfoy Manor or if they had ruined her?

“It’s fine. Theo hardly needs everything growing in that huge greenhouse. It’s just him now after all.” To be honest, Draco wasn’t sure Theo had even set foot in the orangery since he was a kid. He had always preferred his functional plants. The only reason Draco knew he had Dengue was from the elves that upkept it. “I am seeing him tonight anyway. Hopefully he won’t ask too many questions I can answer.”

Draco smiled wistfully at her nod and stepped into the floo. He would have tripped if he had stepped out with the force he usually did. As it was he was lost in thought, and thus the pile of person on the rug of his living room merely resulted in a raised eyebrow.

“Get up Theo,” he said as he flipped his friend on to his stomach. The slightly older man’s head lulled to the side, a reeking wave firewhiskey scented air drifted past.

“Come on Theo." Draco groaned. "Why tonight of all nights?” 

“Tonight because tonight!” The man slurred as he roused himself to consciousness. His dazed eyes met Draco’s with a shockingly friendly smile, his curls bouncing as his head tilted to the side. “Cause I miss you. And you stood me up! That was mean.”

“Uh huh,” Draco responded, hooking his friend under the arm and hefting him up. Pinky appeared only for a moment before Draco nodded at her. He heard the shower in his room turn on. “I’m not that late actually. It’s only-”

He glanced at the clock in the hallway. 6:45. 45 minutes late, more than enough time to get hammered. “Shite. I’m a prat aren’t I?”

“Yesh!” Theo responded enthusiastically as he stumbled along pliantly. 

“I lost track of time.”

“You’ve been gone a lot lately.” Theo's words rose and fell in a chaotic wave. First Blaise and now Theo, clearly he had to work on his time management skills. 

“I’ve been busy.”

“With the thingy? For Blaise’s arm? Is not your fault, ya know,” Theo declared as Draco maneuvered him through the bedroom door and into the bathroom. It didn’t make it any less true.

“Yeah. I am working on something new.” The gladiator and titanium potions had failed but he had found a new salve that promised to build up bones over time. Not that he had much faith in the author, who tending to ramble on about long dead rivals.

“Good. You’ve gotta make time for me. And for Blaise. We’re important!” With that Draco chucked his friend into the shower, the cold water eliciting a yelp from the man. 

“This may not be the right time but can I harvest some of your Dengue tree?”

000000000000000000000000

Draco was puttering around the Nott family orangery before lunch... Or rather breakfast for the two men still asleep upstairs. While he had been intelligent enough to stop a bit after midnight, those two were still roaring when he had stumbled into bed. A quick hangover cure set him to rights shortly after he woke up and gave him time to wander the grounds.

He found the Dengue tree growing in a distant corner of the orangery. It fell out of fashion as a rare ornamental shade tree over 100 years ago and this may be the last specimen in Britain. It wasn’t well-tended per say but it was clearly alive and could suffer a few donations. It was for family after all, and Malfoys stood by their blood. Perhaps not usually one so distant but the bloodlines have dwindled pathetically so he would take what he could get.

Dengue was an odd sort of plant. It required freezing cold temperatures, humid air and warm soil to cover its roots. As such, it naturally grew in coastal mountain ranges that had active volcanoes as a heat source. Or in this case in the Nott orangery. It’s thin sweeping brushed boughs stretched out from a stick-like trunk giving the appearance of a small pine tree that could be sneezed on to fell it. However, one prick of the deep green needles and he would break out into a multitude symptoms including hives and fever.

He examined the maintenance charms briefly, just to ensure there wasn't a breeze creation charm woven in under the complex netting of temperature scripts. He found none to speak of but did admire the effort and skill placed into keeping this one, mostly useless, plant alive. Expensive too, it had to have been planted for an heir hundreds of years ago. Likely one who had the same allergy to Valerian. 

Regardless, the result pleased Draco. This particular specimen was hundreds of years old and had sent up dozens of tender shoots to propagate. Careful to avoid the overhanging branches he quickly dug out the small stalks, cutting them off from the mother plant’s root. He had scooped up twelve figuring that in the two years it would take for Longbottom’s to mature this much would let them get by. Plus he could always come back and grab more.

He paused at the thought. Of course he wouldn't be around in two years. His deal with Granger would be over by then and he assumed his dealings with the loony lovebirds would be as well. Deciding one could never be too prepared he quickly dug up a few more before scurrying back to the house without so much as a scratch on his cheek.

“Morning, laze abouts! How have you started this lovely day?” Draco questioned with false cheerfulness as he came upon both Theo and Blaise in the dining room.

“Must you be so loud?” Blaise grumbled from where he held a glass of ice water to his head, a familiar green bottle of sober-up in front of him. It should be going into effect by the time they finish eating.

“I wasn’t the one screaming through the halls at 3 am,” he responded as he settled into his spot to the right of Theo. Nottinghall was quickly developed into their collective home once they found Theo. The tall thin slot windows were not barred by curtains and let light fall on various open rooms with countless treasures scattered about. Thick stone walls we laced with temperature charms to allow a perfectly mild temperature year round. They were covered by detailed tapestries, some of which depicted either fantasy or history long forgotten.

Gold trimmed the scrolling details were carved into the thick wooden pillars supporting the walls, which faded into various murals etched into the ceiling. The one in the dining room was quite neutral, displaying a calming garden scene. He knew that some of the ones in the more private areas of the house depicted various battles of wizards, frequently with muggles crushed under their feet.

“Draco? You okay?” Theo questioned around a massive bite of eggs. The man barely seemed fazed by any firewhiskey induced injury. But then he was an expert at this point.

“I’m sorry. I was examining your ceiling,” Draco responded by taking a bite of his own second breakfast. He would have much preferred a salad or even a light pasta. But apparently, the house elves found his desire overruled by the Master of the House.

“Much better now isn’t it,” Theo stated as he gazed up himself. “I had the previous one covered up a few months ago. Ghastly dinner conversation. I did the charm work myself, took ages.”

Draco let his friend ramble on about the new art while he chastised himself. He had been over at least a dozen times in the past few months and hadn’t noticed. They were right, his attention was slipping and it was all Granger’s fault. 

As if on cue his watch warmed slowly.

**Sandtruckle Shells today?**

“Yeah I can’t wait to show you guys how well they have settled in. They’re pretty good conversationalists for wild beasts. The one male has the best dirty limericks," Theo finished with a flourish.

“I thought the sphinx did riddles,” Blaise responded with a groan.

“They do, this is more of a passion project for him. Draco you’ll love this one he has about a girl from Nantucket.”

“Sounds great,” he responded, granting the two a half smile as they argued about the location of Nantucket and if it even existed at all. He subtly focused his attention on his wrist.

**Not today. I’ll floo over the stalks.**

He smiled to himself before reaching for another cup of coffee. He was going to need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Memando Memories:  
> A note taking spell that captures the voice of the wizard casting. It will float where directed until the recipient of the spell touches it at which it will replay it's message. It can not be sent over long distances and must be cast within sight of its placement.
> 
> Cenimander  
> A centimander is a very large squishy cave dwelling insect that spends most of it's time in the water caring for a small personal garden from which it feeds. When it is at rest, it often appears dead. When disturbed by an unsuspecting wizard they have been known to constrict around the threat and drag the body down to the depths of their pool.
> 
> Marmats:  
> A prairie dog like smoke elemental that spends most of it's life in dark corners providing a sense of broodiness. If you have ever felt down for no reason and like the walls were closing in around you. It was probably a marmat.
> 
> Hangover cure:  
> A nutrient dense potions that replenishes missing reserves flushed out by alcohol. Cannot be taken in conjunction with sober up. Only effective once every few days, varies by metabolism.


	23. An Offered Gift

Draco spent a proper weekend of boyish debauchery with his friends. After his weekly visit with his mother he even invited them back over for dinner. She had a good day and that put him in the spirit for hosting. Much better than last week's ordeal.

“I say we expand to Russia next,” Theo responded over a glass of amber liquid. “It’s a sound market, with weak infrastructure. Not only is there want, there is need.”

“No no, Japan. The market there is much more attractive,” Blaise responded as he nibbled on the cheese set that Pinky had placed on Draco’s desk.

“Attractive women don’t make profit, Blaise,” Theo huffed as he took another sip. 

“Not with that attitude they don’t.” The man smiled charmingly as Draco rolled his eyes. Blaise would eventually acquiesce and Theo would start them up in Russia making sure to plan a visit to scope out Japan as well. It was days like this that made him feel on top of the world.

The argument was interrupted by the familiar green flames of the floo. His heart stammered, afraid a bushy-haired woman was about to roll out of his fireplace. He risked a glance at his watch. No messages. He sighed in relief as the flame burned down, Granger never came over without notice, even if he didn’t afford her the same courtesy. As a matter of fact he hardly ever would have noticed her coming if she hadn’t kept leaving her blankets about.

“What’s this then?” Theo jumped up from his chair eagerly and scrambled over to the ashes. He picked up a medium sized jar, stopped with a chord of cork, a dinner plate sized packet and a small letter.

“Ingredient delivery,” Draco responded, knowing full well he had not ordered anything recently.

“Oh really?” Theo questioned with an all to dangerous grin. Without hesitation he tossed the letter and parcel to Blaise then uncorked the jar.

“Opening someone else’s mail is a crime in some countries,” Draco offered trying to appear nonchalant. There was really only one thing it could be.

“Not this one.” Theo smiled as he gently dipped his finger in the black sanded contents of the container. With a curious sniff and light tap to his tongue he jumped back as if he had been burned. “Bloody hell, that’s Dragon scale!”

He threw back the rest of his firewiskey, something Draco doubted actually reduced the burning. “Told you. Stop putting random things in your mouth before it kills you.”

“It’s potent too. I’ve never seen it so fresh,” Theo commented in between sips. Meanwhile, the rustling of paper indicated that Blaise was sticking his nose into Draco’s business as well. The boy let out a slow whistle as he uncovered the package. Examining it for a second before tossing it to Draco.

Now this was unexpected. He knew he would get a cut of the scales and bones but had not expected anything else. Carefully removing the brown parcel paper, he uncovered a midnight black spanse of fabric. Velvet? Fur? Leather? No it felt softer. He realized it was dragonhide right around the time Blaise had started reading the note.

“ _Draco,_

_We are so grateful for the stalk. I know you have changed her life and I am a bit ashamed to say that I took some as well for my own personal needs. I have sent you the dragonhide as an additional show of my gratitude. I hope you can make it over tomorrow or tonight so we can work on the bones._ ”

Draco blessed his lucky stars she had not been stupid enough to sign the note. Noting nothing too revealing in the note he sighed and took a sip of his coffee. When he glanced up, both boys were staring at him with devilish grins.

“Looks like Skeeter finally got one right,” Blaise responded smugly.

“I mean she was bound to at some point,” Theo commented to the air. “It was really a numbers game.”

“Pardon?” Draco questioned as he unfolded the deep black dragonhide. It was an expensive and very sizable chunk of the sample they took. More than enough to make something wearable. He was going to need to contact his tailor.

“I told you he had a woman Blaise,” Theo responded smugly.

“Two from the sound of it. When are you going back to ‘work on the bones’ Draco?”

“Please,” Draco coughed as he finally caught their meaning. The note was certainly vague, it had to be. But really, they were certainly making something out of nothing. “It’s just an order is all.”

“Uh huh,” Theo responded standing up and cracking his knuckles. “Well, we’re going to need more information than that.”

Draco rubbed his head, it was going to be a long night.

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“Are you insane?” Malfoy questioned as he stormed into her living room. He spun around before finally locating her at her window sill.

“In general? No.” She continued to stroke Crookshanks who had barely opened an eye in acknowledgement.

“What kind of note was that?” The blonde boy roared as he stalked over.

“A thank you note? I understand you aren’t a muggle but we tend to send them when we receive something to be grateful for.”

“That’s not what it looked like to Blaise and Theo!” he shouted as he shook the note in question above his head.

“Well what did it look like to them? I had sent it to your study as previously instructed,” she responded tartly, annoyed at so much shouting this late at night

“They think it’s a love letter!” he said, shoving the parchment at her and scaring off the cat with a hiss. “A clandestine affair.”

“Okay ew,” she responded automatically and immediately felt guilty by the offended look on his face. “Sorry. I meant... no way. Even reading it with that in mind it’s a bit of a stretch.”

“Well what am I supposed to tell them?”

“What did you tell them?” She risked a glance at his arm, clear of any angry red welts. He obviously didn’t tell them the truth.

“That it was from a pair of twins in Nova Soctia.” Malfoy hung his head with a sigh. 

“Nova Scotia?” Hermione questioned as she tried to remember anything remarkable about the little state halfway across the world.

“I panicked! What would you have done?” he spat as he crossed his arms. She thought for a moment.

“Old rich lady. One with more money than company?” she suggested with a shrug. 

“That-” he started with indignation only to have his face fall as he began to process it. “Is actually not a half-bad lie.”

“Thank you. Well if you are done with your tantrum I was actually about to message you anyway.” Hermione brushed the blankets she was nestled in away and made her way over to her armchair. A bottle was placed conspicuously at the center of the otherwise empty coffee table.

“Isn’t it a bit late?” he questioned as he relaxed enough to sprawl possessively on the couch. His couch at the point really. Not that she would tell him that.

“It won’t take long, I just wanted to show you something.” She floated the bottle toward him and met his speculative glance with a confident one. She could back track. She could tell him to forget it and to go home. But, Luna had slept without fear for the first time in years. _Neville_ had even said he planned to thank the Slytherin next time he visited. Actually thank Draco Malfoy. Molly Weasley was knitting the devil a jumper at that very moment. “Don’t drink it.”

He simply unstoppered and sniffed it instead. He seemed to process for a moment before narrowing his eyes in suspension. “What are you implying, Granger?” 

“Pardon?” she responded slightly taken aback. She had expected a lot of different reactions. Annoyance, indifference, arrogance. Suspicion was an odd choice.

“This smells remarkably like a Potion of Endless Sleep. I’m not sure why you think I would need it.” Potion of Endless Sleep. The potion that caused the famous fairy tale. A coma inducing potion that once served as a way to silence figureheads until their affairs could be put in order. It looks like she just gave Malfoy an assassin’s weapon.

“Oh no! No, no! I am so sorry. That’s not what it is.” She hastily stumbled over her words as she tried to explain. “It has a similar base of bat wing and herda helix but it uses focusing agents including peppers and flax to better control the- oh dear I’m rambling aren’t I?” 

She blushed as the blonde man nodded with an amused smirk. He was clearly enjoying the show.

“No please continue, I think the tinderbox you call hair is about to catch.”

“Ugh!” She growled only half regretting moving forward with it. “So I know you’re about to get really busy for the holidays and so we may not have time to work much. And... well, it’s my potion.”

“Clearly,” he responded eyes darting to the three eyed cat carved on the cork stopper.

“I meant it is an Elixir of Lucidity,” she huffed. She was at least placated a bit as the man sat up straight, staring at her confusion. “I was thinking you may want to do something with it.”

"I must admit that I haven't had much time to play with it. Bigger fish and all that," she remained silent as he actually sussed out the meat of her offer. The confusion morphed to something close to shock before it was schooled back into the classic smug half smile. “You want me to market it? A bit low on cash, Granger?”

She shrugged helplessly. What was it about Slytherins? Everything had ulterior motives, no one could just be nice.

“I want nothing. I know you have the recipe but it’s yours to do with as you please. Market it. Develop an addiction to it. Shove it in the back of your closet and forget about it. Whatever.”

“Oh.”

He at least had the good sense to look sheepish and a bit honored. He should be. Master’s never release their namesake potion recipe until they die, sometimes not even then. It was an extension of trust that she did so, charging him with maintaining the integrity of the potion and thus her status as a Master. Not that she particularly cared about it. She was just sick of the potential of the elixir hanging over her like a sulking teenager. It was his problem now.

“I am sure you can use it to make someone’s life happier,” she offered with a helpless shrug. “Better than it rotting away on a shelf.”

“Uh, thanks Granger. I-”

“Don’t.” She held up her hand to immediately stop him. She didn’t think she could handle genuine gratitude from him. “I just didn’t want to buy you anything. I know it’s early but... Happy Yule.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” he responded as he fingered the red ribbon melted into the wax.

“I don’t want anything. Just have a good Christmas, okay?”

00000000

It came the next morning, as it always did on on Chirstmas Eve. When the bell above her mail basket rang she felt her heart sink in dread. Hermione hated the holidays.

000000000000000000000

Christmas Eve was an affair when you were a known bachelor with no family to speak of. Draco had received no less than thirteen invites to various gatherings and Blaise had certainly received double that at least. Theo was currently tinkering with the Elixir of Lucidity, trying to figure out just what its limits were. The two of them knew better than to interrupt him until tomorrow when they would forcibly drag him out.

It was at one of these gatherings he spotted the perfect gift. It was actually an ornament on the hostess’s tree. The room tinkled with the sound of glass swaying in the breeze. The tree itself was fairly standard, a thick evergreen base with wax candles floating at the tips of branches without burning. The real magic was in the ornaments scattered around the branches. Impossibly delicate glass figurines carved in various forms danced in and out of the tree, catching the flickering light before disappearing again. The one that caught his eye was easily missed, curled up deep near the trunk, nearly impossible to see. A simple but beautiful enchanted cat.

“Aren’t they gorgeous?” the hostess questioned with a drawl. He vaguely recognized her as someone he made specialized and very discreet anti-wrinkle potions for. She looked no older than 30 but Draco knew her to be at least 120.

“The cat reminds me of a colleague of mine,” he responded graciously.

“Oh that nasty thing. Every year we pull them out of storage and I want to smash it into the ground. All it does is hide and claw at people. Every time I throw it away it comes back the next year,” she responded with a dismissive wave. "I would hope your colleague is much more amendable."

“Not by much," he offered with a grin. "Where did you find it? I think I will pick one up.”

“No no, take this one I insist.” The woman snatched up the little glass kitten with more force that it looked able to take. “These are from my great grandmother so you will never find another set. This way you have your cat and I can be rid of the blasted thing.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before she was inevitably called away to her duties. Draco eyed the small kitten as it rolled around on his palm, chasing unseen mice. 

_It’s only fair_ . He told himself. _She started it and I refuse to let her pull ahead of me._

With more care than necessary he wrapped the small cat in his pocket square and made a point to swing by before the next party.

000000000000000000000

When he had arrived at Rowana’s Cell he was deeply surprised to find it empty. It of course made sense she would be out spending the holidays with whoever she counted as family of course. After all as far as he could tell, no human other than himself ever came to visit the workshop. He understood that the volatile chemicals and astringent smells weren’t exactly set up for a tea party, but if he could manage, then that African Seer could choke back a cup of English Black and comment on the drapes.

As soon as he stepped out of the floo, a light glow kicked on in the corner. Shoved directly to the right of the floo was a charming little Christmas tree. It was a bit of a shock, considering when he had visited yesterday the corner was empty except for a few discarded boxes. He had every intention of leaving the mewling kitten on her desk but this was a much better option.

With a nod of gratitude for his luck he moved closer to examine the tiny evergreen. The thing could barely be considered a bush let alone a tree. It only just hit his hip at its tallest point. He figured it may have been all she could send for through the regular post. He had seen her get mail before but only by letter. She was remarkably touchy about her floo address and even magic couldn’t squeeze an adult fir into an envelope.

At the base there was indeed the shredded remains of a bright red casing, peppering the floor. The thick emerald boughs were delicately laced with snow, small flurries maintained by thick white clouds near the trunk. Miniature gas lanterns speckled the branches, illuminating the tracks that circled around the small shrub. As if called, a model version of the Hogwarts Express rounded the back of the tree, producing a thick tail of smoke. In spite of its size, it was quite beautifully done. His mother would have approved. He gave a low whistle of appreciation towards the skill Hermione must have had to create such an intricate charm with so many moving pieces. He unwrapped his kitten and let it crawl into the tree. Much happier to have it’s own domain it roamed the branches, batting at the swinging lanterns. He was smiling as it rolled down the slope of a branch only to catch itself on the one below it. As the final car of the track rounded the bend he saw it. A small scrap of red ribbon embroidered with a deep gold trailing behind the car. 

_Merry Christmas. -Love Harry_

He was still watching the thing flutter around the opposite side of the tree as Hermione exited her bathroom, her hair flicked with bright colors of paint.

“Oh, Hello Draco,” She said as her eyes met his. She glanced down at her rainbow smudged robes and shrugged with a smile. “Sorry I am such a mess. I hardly expected you. You really should message me first.”

“Happy Yule, Granger,” He responded pulling himself back up to full height. He twitched his head toward the tree. “I was just dropping off your Yule Present.” 

“I told you not to get me anything,” she whined but wandered over to join him. She instantly noticed the cat, mingling amongst the grander magic of the tree. She stuck her finger close to him which he batted away playfully. “He’s cute, reminds me of Crookshanks.”

The both stared at the train as it rounded the thick base of the tree before beginning it’s upward climb.

“So where are you coming home from?” he questioned as he tried to force the conversation to casual. “Crazy party? Was Body paint involved? I didn't know you had it in you Granger.”

“Hm? Oh. No.” She tickled the kitten’s stomach as it rolled on it’s back purring. “Rainbow Canyon. Those feathered serpents enjoy mud quite a lot.”

“Er… Gra- Hermione?” Draco questioned as he watched her gaze adoringly at her present. Her name sounded strange on his tounge. “Not that it’s exactly my place to ask. But what are you doing here.”

She stiffened. “I live here Malfoy.”

“I mean, it’s Christmas Eve. Don’t you have some place to be?” He slid his hands into his pockets as he watched her, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

“Not a huge holiday person.”

“Could have fooled me. Between this and Halloween.” He followed her gaze to Potter’s note.

“Any chance you’ll let it alone?” she questioned as she straightened.

“Maybe if you ask nicely.” He wandered over to his couch and lounged upon the ugly thing taking solace in it’s comfort. He would probably just leave if she asked. He didn’t have any particular interest in all of this.

“Don’t have anyone to spend it with.” Her voice was neural and flippant. Like he had asked about her preference of wine.

“Luna?” he questioned as she settled in her armchair, staring at the softly burning floo. He hadn’t realized how dark the place got when the lights were down. Or perhaps he had just forgotten.

“At Neville’s estate. I don’t want to intrude.”

“Cat bitch?” Not that he could blame her for avoiding the snippy seer.

“No and be nice. Honestly,” Hermione pulled her legs up into her chair, crossing her arms over them.

“Dragon boy?” Surely the mother of the world would be happy to have her third wayward child join in on the celebrations.

“Dragon’s don’t take holidays,” she muttered.

“The rest of the ginger clan?” he questioned as she pulled herself tighter. She didn’t bother responding. He heard the Hogwarts Express sound its horn behind him.

“Hermione?” He nearly jumped as she glanced at him. She looked deeply uncomfortable and terribly alone. A feeling he remembered all too well. “Why don’t you talk to Potter anymore?”

Her gaze steeled as he waited for her answer. After a moment he broke it, choosing instead to stare at her ever familiar ceiling. He had intended to leave, but he was shocked to find he didn’t really want to. He was quite comfortable and the quiet respite from the uproar of conversation and music was so unlike the Christmases he had always known. It was a good few minutes before she sighed.

“How do you know we don’t talk anymore?”

“Ran into him at the ministry a couple month’s back. Man is terrible at interrogation,” he stated simply. 

“He didn’t-”

“Nothing official.” He shook his head lightly drawing his eye’s down to meet hers. She was frightened. “I didn’t tell him anything.”

“Thank you.”

He simply shrugged and continued to watch her. After a moment she blew a stray curl from her eyes and answered.

“We just drifted apart is all.”

“Why?” She flinched and he felt a bit guilty. But then again, she didn’t have to answer if she didn’t want to. He wasn’t holding veritaserum to her lips.

“...You know how you are not okay? And how I am not okay?” she responded unknotting her legs. He nodded more because it felt like it was the right thing to do, rather than argue with her. “Harry is- Harry is okay.”

“Hm,” Draco hummed trying to maintain neutrality. He certainly didn’t sound that okay when he was threatening Draco.

“ He’s got a wife and a career and a cute little dog named Lolo… We weren’t the same anymore… So we just… drifted… I always intended to go back... I just...”

“Sure.” He understood the premise of course. There were some things you just didn’t need detail on. Some things you didn’t ask about just because you didn’t want to know. Some things you let the people deal with on their own, even if they were doing it wrong. More out of habit and guilt than anything else he asked the question that was hanging in the air. "Why you're not okay?"

"I think I have every reason not to be don't you?" she responded viciously. He felt himself physically shrink back at the truth of the statement and returned his gaze to the ceiling, keeping his mouth shut. After a breath she sighed. 

“Why are you here?” she asked, her voice thick with accusation. He tried not to take it too personally. Instead he cocked his head toward the tree.

“Your present. Didn’t want it to be late so I snuck out between parties.”

“How difficult it must be to be a social pariah.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm as she rolled her eyes. He allowed himself a smirk.

“Can’t all be shut-ins, Granger. Someone has to fuel the gossip rags.” He rearranged his arms, folding them behind his neck.

“Well you should get back to it then,” she responded returning to the slightly annoyed witch he had grown accustomed to. “Wouldn’t want a young journalist to miss out on her scoop.”

He scoffed loudly. “I would hardly call Rita Skeeter young by any measure.”

“Is that horrid woman still alive?” Hermione questioned pushing herself up from the chair. “Remind me to tell you the story about her and a jar.”

“A jar?” he questioned cocking his head to the side with a devilish grin. That _did_ sound amusing.

“Another time. You should go, they’ll miss you.” He stood, staring at the young witch as she waved the lights on to a glow. She looked so small in such a huge space. Like she could slip through the floorboards and disappear.

“You could come with,” he offered, almost immediately regretting his statement when she whirled around. He was prepared for some sort of hex, but instead was just met by a perplexing look.

“Takes the heat off me for a while." When she smiled he continued. "We could dress you up. Mystery woman arrives with London’s three most famous bachelors. Who is she? Where did she come from? Blaise would be _so_ put out to not be the center of attention.” 

She relaxed, giggling into her hand. “While that does sound amusing I am quite tired. Plus I am covered in clay.”

“Tomorrow then?” He offered haphazardly. He was thoroughly shocked as she actually seemed to consider it.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you really want to spend Christmas, sitting in the dark feeling sorry for yourself?” he questioned with obvious disdain. Pity was bad. Self pity was worse still. She watched him for a measure. Her eyes scanned him for… anything he supposed. Trickery, malice, judgement. He relaxed his stance and let her watch, she wouldn’t find anything. 

“Alright I suppose. As long as I don’t know anyone there,” she responded slowly, like she was afraid he would take it back.

“Please. I don’t know if you were aware of this Granger. But I don't usually associate with your circles,” he scoffed and was rewarded when she relaxed, falling into a soft smile.

“Alright, alright. Now get back to your party before your friends come looking for you.” She waved him off like a proper mother hen chiding her chick. “You better not be drunk when I arrive tomorrow.”

“Eight? My study?” he questioned.

“Fine whatever. Now shoo, I have work to do.” Draco nearly leapt into the floo, casting a glance at the now much sadder Christmas tree once more. He was developing a habit of taking in strays. What was one more, really?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World building with Om
> 
> Elixir of Lucidity  
> A rather rare potion created by one Miss Hermione Granger. This potion allows for lucid dreaming, that is to say it allows the dreamer to control the dream around them. There was a good amount of potential in this potion before it's creator fell off the face of the earth with it's recipe. Very few bottles remain.
> 
> Magic little Christmas  
> Christmas is a much more subdued holiday in the wizarding world compared to in the muggle one. However, purebloods are always looking for a reason to party. The enchanted ornament is made of crystal and spelled to move and act like a real cat. It is also spelled to find it's way back to storage in case it gets lost. Harry's tree is time sensitive magic. When the caster is not present and has not locked a spell in place as is it only last as long as the magic used to create it does. 
> 
> Timeline update  
> Christmas time obviously. This whole situation started mid august/ early September.


	24. A Christmas Story

Hermione was unsure as to why exactly she was taking the risk to go to some ritzy party full of people she had never met. Perhaps she had just wanted to see the magic in the ancient Victorian homes. Maybe she wanted to nibble on foods and sip champagne that she could never rationalize spending the galleons on. Maybe it was just that she couldn't stomach sitting alone on Christmas for the fourth year in a row watching the stupidly beautiful, enchanted tree Harry sent disappear at midnight.

Regardless, when she flooed to Draco's flat, her small beaded bag firmly in hand, she made a point to hold her head high. She felt pitiful after that display last night. And maybe she was pathetic and this was just a pity invite brought on by a man who didn't have the emotional capability to handle it any other way. But by Merlin she was going to have a good time.

His office was the same dark wood and rich greens she had grown accustomed to. She had been pleased when he had finally started to leave the pile of blankets on his couch for her comfort after weeks of sending them back to her house. They still were draped across the back of the fine leather piece that made her thighs stick uncomfortably to the surface. A swatch of warm maroon in the otherwise bleak and oppressing room.

She heard shuffling on the other side of the door. For one cowardly moment she considered jumping back into the flames and pretending she had never come. He certainly wouldn't come drag her out. He would probably sigh in relief that he didn't have to take her along, chastising his spontaneous decision. However when the door creaked open, her fate was sealed.

"Cursed Goliath, I hate these things." He was fumbling with a somewhat skewed scrap of silky Navy fabric around his neck. "Do you know how to tie this?"

Hermione shook her head. She hadn't really given much consideration to what she should be wearing. She had simply grabbed her charmed scarf and breezed through the fireplace before she lost her nerve. It had been so long since she was out in London.

Now, watching as Malfoy cursed and tugged she felt remarkably sheepish. She didn't know much about suits, but his looks both elegant and comfortable in the way that suggested it was built for him. The deep navy pants and jacket were off set soft dove gray vest that lightened the image. Comparatively she was going to look…

"That's it." He huffed pointing his wand at the fabric. He quickly transfigured it into a regular tie, donning it with practiced ease. "I don't care what Blaise says is in. I refuse to wea- You aren't going like that."

"Well no." She responded haughty, pulling up her stature. Of course she wasn't wearing jeans and a jumper. She may not be a heiress but she wasn't a moron.

"That wasn't a question." He sighed as he grimaced looking her up and down in appraisal. He didn't seem pleased by what he saw. "You may be able to fit into some of what I have in storage. They're older fashions but that just means it's been years since anyone has seen them. We will have to take them out significantly at the waist."

"Did you just-Wait,actually. Malfoy, why do you have women's dress robes?" Hermione questioned with a comfortable taunt in her voice.

"Oh don't get your knickers in a twist. They're my mother's." He said as he rolled his eyes. "Hold onto fashion long enough and it becomes a vintage masterpiece."

"Would she be okay with me borrowing them?" Hermione asked suspiciously. While not as vocal as her husband Narcissa Malfoy always had a subtle but fierce superiority complex.

"Well, she isn't using them."

"I mean, because I am muggleborn." She finished flatly.

"Ah." Draco paused to think for a moment. "No, I don't think she has any care about that at all these days. Let's go, I didn't factor in an alteration appointment tonight."

Before he left Hermione regained her objectivity.

"Oh wait, I brought my dress." She shuffled around in her bag, digging for her scarf. She hooked her ring finger around the silk, pulling it loose. "I had a charm for when Ron and I would go dancing."

"Ugh, I don't even want to imagine that buffoon trying to dance." He paused dramatically. "Actually, now that I think about it I really do. It would be the pinnacle of comedy. I have no idea why you saw in that oaf."

"He was kind." Hermione responded shaking out the scarf. "And it's easy to love when you think you are going to die the next day."

"Funny, that's not how I remember it." She shrugged and wrapped the silk around her as her charms settled. It had taken forever to apply but it was worth it. She could barely walk in heels without tripping over her feet, this way she was always able to wear whatever was comfortable underneath while still looking presentable.

"Not awful, a bit muggle but I hear that's in nowadays." He responded neutrally as he eyed her. "A bit plain too."

She glanced down at the red swing dress. It was the same silhouette she had worn since school, the slightly flared skirt hit just above her knee, with a thick band nipping in at the waist. Small capped sleeves met at her breast bone, shaping a low but respectable neckline. It hardly seemed plain to her.

"I'd change the color. Silver would be appropriate for the venue. Do you have any jewelry to dress it up?" She nodded as she pulled down some old pieces she had scavenged from her mother's jewelry box for her fifth year and had never managed to give them back.

"Do pearls go with silver?" She asked, not quite sure where the style guide of lavish Christmas parties was.

"Diamonds are better but we can work with what you have." He looked at the plain pearl string and set his wand to work transfiguring. Hermione ignored the gut reaction to the change reasoning she could always shift it back. Instead she focused on nudging the charms on the scarf until the dress begrudgingly turned silver.

"Is my hair okay?" She had left it down after applying a multitude of anti-frizz spells. She hoped it was serviceable. If she touched it anymore it was likely to explode back into an uncontrollable mess.

"Better than usual. Change it to black." He supplied with a smirk handing the necklace back. He had split the strand into two at the center creating a layered lock before they fused back together at her collarbones. A short line gradually diminishing droplets hung down from the center to her breast bone laying lightly against her cleavage. As she laced it around her neck she adjusted her hair color as well, cringing as she felt her ringlets begin to loosen.

"Well am I done then?" She asked, already overwhelmed and tired.

"Better do something about those eyes. Here, I'm great at those." He slipped his hand around the back of her head holding it in place. She jumped as his wand appeared directly in front of her face, her own materializing in her hand.

"Sorry." She muttered as she blushed from embarrassment, shoving her wand into her skirt. "Habit. Nothing to do with you. Honest."

"You can-" He started, lowering his wand.

"No you do it. I can never get the pattern right so they come out all one color. It's kind of frightening." She chuckled awkwardly as he focused on her eyes. She felt the cool ripples of his magic flow over her face, settling near her cheekbones as the magic began to pool. He finally pulled away nodding in satisfaction.

"Admitting there's something you can't do well Granger?"He quipped with a smirk that felt way too comforting."Not bad. You don't look a thing like you."

"What? You don't think I am beautiful as is?" She teased with a cheeky grin. The taunted felt normal, stabilizing.

"No. I saw you step in erumpent dung last week. Not a great look. Not a great look at all." She tore a discarded stopper off his desk and threw it at him. It bounced harmlessly against his lapel before falling on the floor. In another part of the house a clock sounded.

"Alright, let's go. If we arrive any later, we'll pass fashionable and slide into dramatic." He stated, turning to the floo. He hooked his arm politely and she took it. She was going to have fun tonight, no matter what.

00000000000000000000000000000000

The flames met the invitation with a roar. The usual green died down to a pale amber as they stepped in. Draco dropped his arm as they landed at the rather mundane town house in front of the gas lamp. It was a clean white with a small cast iron fence surrounding a stretch of grass. The sunny butter door beamed in the flickering light of the lamp post. Only the quietest murmur from the party could be heard leaking through the arched window.

"Oh." Hermione stated. She sounded disappointed.

"Problem, Mia?" He questioned using the agreed upon name as he climbed the steps. He was going to have to be very careful not to slip up and insult her too much tonight. It shouldn't bee too difficult, with the ebony black hair and arresting green eyes, he would hardly pick her out of a crowd as Hermione Granger. Then again, the way she spoke was a dead give away to anyone who spent time with her.

"No, not at all." She popped up the stairs next to him taking his arm again. He could practically feel her vibrating in excitement. He rolled his eyes before knocking on the door. A moment later it opened up, allowing them to step inside.

The entryway held a tall black coat rack that bowed as they entered. It extended one of its pegs to close the door behind them before returning to it's station.

He breezed into the living room, the sound charm breaking as they entered the bubble of chatter and laughter. Crystal glasses tinkled softly as an enchanted piano hummed in the background. He dropped her arm again as a tray full of drinks slowly drifted past, a whiskey for him and a bright pink sugary looking thing for her. He wasn't sure if she drank much but the rest of the women in the room all seemed to have one. As he handed off the drink she looked on, slightly put out.

"What's wrong?" He sighed. He was going to regret bringing her along if she just moped all night.

"It's just… a bit… It wasn't what I was expecting. Not that it's bad. " She finished with a sip of her drink and grimaced. "Except that. That is dreadful."

He snickered as the drink vanished itself as if insulted by the very idea. She blinked in surprise before taking another look around.

"What were you expecting?" He questioned, snatching another drink as it wandered by. It was a pale yellow, with tiny little creamy bubbles suspended in the liquid. He handed that one off to her too.

"Well…" She stalled taking a trial sip. She made a small noise of pleasure and he laced his arm in hers again before slowly guiding them towards the kitchen. She didn't notice the twinkling stars that glittered behind her as the drink took effect.

"Well what?" Draco nodded as he passed a client. The man was standing with a witch easily half his age and not nearly as short or pudgy as his wife.

"You'll tease me. And I refuse to give you anymore fodder."

"Can't tease you." He responded smiling at an old flame. She smiled back, subtly flashing a glittering engagement ring on her hand. Not that he was offering. "You're my date. It would be rude."

"And that stops you another time?"

"Any other time we're locked away in your flat, where you have likely forced me to do or ingest something unpleasant. That's hardly a date. No matter how desperate you are." A small wave to the hostess who was lounging on the couch like a well kept cat. "Here, I am in control. And that makes me just happy enough to treat you with a shred of consideration. Now, 'well' what?"

"I just expected… something more grand."

"Grand? This house cost three and a half million gallons." He allowed his foot to tap extra loudly on the marble floor. Imported from Greece of course.

"Well you know. I just thought it would be more magical."

"Right." He eyed a floating drink tray meaningfully.

"Oh you are going to make me say it, aren't you?"

"I suppose so."

"Well… I was just expecting a grand entrance. You know. Like a massive staircase where they call out your name and my name and we descend to the ballroom below. Everyone is dancing and there are giant windows that lead out to the terrace."

He contained his snarky comment, only making a small noise of assertion.

"And the ceiling would drip with real icicles as magical snow horses take people out in carriages with warming charms keeping them comfortable. You know," She paused to gesture vaguely, small sparking fireworks shooting out of her fingertips. "Like in a book."

"That's very… creative." He managed to choke out.

"Is that not what you do?" She questioned her eyebrow raised. The verdant emerald flashed with flecks of gold as they caught the reflection of a candle. He had done a remarkable job on her eyes. Some of his best work really. Pity it was wasted on Granger.

"No. Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Well with the yule ball and everyone being so caught up on tradition and… oh dear. You're laughing at me aren't you." She questioned with what could almost be considered a pout. He tried to calm his stuttering breathing.

"Not out loud, so I think I should be forgiven." He responded as they finally made their way to the kitchen. The hostess had set up a massive table full of a variety of winter food from across the globe. Little fairies danced around the chandelier spinning on the tips before taking off again. "Those parties do happen on Halloween, but usually only the old crowd have the space to hold them anymore."

"Does your mother host one?" She questioned taking a small chocolate covered burst berry. She popped it in her mouth jumping in surprise when it exploded with a wave of juice. The moment gave him a chance to collect himself.

"Not anymore. She used to when I was little though." He chuckled as she struggled to swallow the influx of liquid. "I'll go find you a napkin."

000000000000000000000000000000000

Hermione felt a bit selfish to be so disappointed. It wasn't that the party wasn't amazing or magical. It was just very much like what she would expect from a muggle get-together. The house was certainly in another tax bracket but it was otherwise very similar to the ones her parents used to throw.

"There you are!" A blonde witch slightly older than herself appeared directly in front of Hermione as soon as Draco left the room. "I have been waiting to catch you alone. You simply must tell me your name."

"Hello." Hermione responded glancing around to make sure she hadn't missed anything. Instead of someone coming to save her she was quickly finding herself surrounded by a variety of very beautiful young women. "I am Mia Merago."

"Agatha Selwyn. But don't call me that, it's a crone's name. I go by Annie. That's Isabella, Maisy, Birdy, Pippa, Carrie-" The names continued on as each girl bobbed hello. "In any event. You're here with Draco! Spill!"

"I uh…" Hermione trailed off as the gathered group of women followed every word.

"Annie you're scaring her." One pouted out.

"Oh you were just hoping he'd take you." Annie replied flipping her long pin straight hair.

"He never takes anyone to these things." The pouting girl snorted in a rather undignified manner. Hermione would be willing to bet they would get along.

"Thus no reason to pout. It's unbecoming."

"Oh and like your last trip to America was all right and proper." Pouty hissed in a low voice. "If your father knew-"

"In any event!" Annie responded shooting a poisonous glare at the other girl before turning expectantly to Hermione. "Tell us everything!"

"Yes dear, do tell us everything." To Hermione's horror none other than, devil incarnate, Rita Skeeter herself pushed her way to the front of the gaggle. Her clawed nails were painted a vivid pink and matched her skirt suit with disgusting accuracy. In those hands a notepad and quick quotes quill were twitching away violently. To be fair, the group of girls looked about as annoyed with her presence as Hermione.

"Rita." She growled.

"Oh my, a fan. I always love to meet my followers. Tell me, are you really here with Draco Malfoy?" The woman questioned as all heads turned towards Hermione.

"I would think that obvious." Her voice rumbled with poorly disguised hatred.

"I love your accent. It sounds Spanish. Is that where you two met?" The quill quit it's scribbling pausing for Hermione's answer. She had prepared a backstory but apparently that has slipped out of her control.

"Yes. I am from Barcelona." She responded as the women around her nodded.

"Lovely city!" One supplied.

"They have the most gorgeous leather trunks there." Supplied another.

"Barcelona. A city of beauty, history, and love. I can see it now. You sitting at a fountain, drinking an espresso and staring off into the clouds." Skeeter drawled as the quill morphed into a blur capturing every word. "Him, dashing across the plaza, late for a meeting. Your eyes meet, the blossom of true love blooming in-"

"No!" Hermione spat out awkwardly, much to the surrounding audience's disappointment. "I mean we met here. In London."

"Hm, boring." Rita remarked her eyes boring into Hermione. "Well why were you here? Did a sordid affair break apart? A family tragedy? Running from an arranged marriage to a cruel man?"

"Visiting."

"And who were you visiting?" The excitement in her voice was rising. "The other man? Woman?"

"I hardly see how that's your business."

"Interesting." Rita tapped the quill feather against her lip. Her eyes gleamed in the light making Hermione feel very much like circled prey. She wished she was Hermione right now, she could have hexed the reporter across the room. "You know. The Malfoys are known for their selectivity. I wouldn't imagine the head of his house would be seen with anyone… beneath him."

The statement was made so casually it made Hermione's skin crawl. She flipped her hair like the Mermaids did when approached with a topic they didn't want to discuss. Haughty was the word. "I don't quite catch your meaning. You English are so poetic."

"I mean what line are you from, sweetie. Aren't you pureblood?" Rita's quill was waiting to strike. Hermione realized she had been backed into a corner expertly and cursed herself for letting it happen. She could make one up, but knowing Rita it would only be a matter of hours before she knew there was no bloodline. Judging from the amount of money surrounding her she couldn't just give a random pureblood name either without someone counteracting her.

"Well…" She glanced towards the exit. Malfoy was standing frozen, his drink in one hand and a paper rose in the other.

"'Well' what dear?" Rita smelled blood. She was ready to strike and Hermione was willing to bet viciously.

"That is to say..."

"What's the matter sweetie? Unless of course, you aren't. Well, you know." Her grin was impossibly evil and she was practically salivating.

"I-"

"MIA!" Hermione gasped as her breath was knocked out of her by a blind hit from behind. If she hadn't been so desperate struggling for air she may have managed an instant hex or two.

Shuffling around as the arms released her, she was greeted with a bear-like hug and a mop of curly brown ringlets. With reckless abandon she was lifted off the floor and twirled in the air like a toddler. By the time she was put down her head was spinning.

"Now girls," The blur of a man chided, shaking his finger. "You better be nice to my dear cousin. This is her first time out in England and I would hate for her to not come back. I may never leave the house in a fit of depression!"

The man sighed dramatically, folding his arm to rest on his forehead. His smile was teasing and kind, it reminded her very much of a set of twins that didn't really exist anymore. She quickly pushed the thought to the back of her mind as she forced down the knot in her throat.

"Oh Theo!" Annie smiled alluringly as she rested her hand gently on his chest. "We would never! We were just gossiping is all."

Hermione realized she was staring at what could be none other than Theodore Nott. The man had certainly filled out a bit since their 6th year potions class. His rabbity face had widened into a full and friendly visage marked with laugh lines, evidence of a man quick to smile. His brown eyes twinkled with humor as he snatched at two drinks on a nearby tray holding one out to Hermione. What was someone so… pleasant doing hanging around Draco Malfoy.

"You were going to eat her you silly vixens. Why, I should let her use that spell that makes you recite all of Shakespeare's plays everytime you speak until you have finished them. She hexed me when I was eight for feeding her kneazle a barking bean." He turned to smile at her with a wink.

"That wasn't funny." She murmured, happy to be rid of the attention.

"It was hilarious." Draco responded, stepping up to tuck her arm into his. "I brought you your napkin."

He handed off the paper rose, whatever mess Hermione had made was long since dealt with. She dabbed lightly at her lips anyway.

"Mr. Malfoy. It is so good to see you." Rita sidestepped Theo with her pen at the ready." A quick word on your relationship?"

"I think," A tall man loomed to the right of Draco partially obscured by his blonde hair. "That any questions you have should be directed to me. After all, I am the people person."

"Mr. Zabini." Rita responded, her face screwing up like she had eaten a Sour Sucker. "Always a pleasure."

"Normally women don't lie to me about their pleasure." He responded darkly. Now Blaise Zabini was everything she had expected. His sharp edged cheekbones looked cunningly harsh. His angled eyes were defined by thick black lashes and a dangerous look that screamed bad boy. Even his suit, while every bit as similar as Draco's from what she could see, didn't look to play by the rules. He had already loosened his tie, the top two buttons of his shirt undone.

"Hm, well." Rita huffed glancing back at Hermione in defeat. "Another time perhaps."

"Perhaps. It was lovely meeting you Miss Skeber." Hermione responded primly.

"It's Skeeter."

"Of course Miss Skeeper. Your English names are quite strange to me." Hermione waved in dismissal as the woman narrowed her eyes before huffing and walking away. Theo extradited himself from the clan of melting heiresses and joined them.

"Well cousin." He chuckled, throwing his arm over her shoulder. "Seems like we have a lot of catching up to do."

"Indeed we do cousin." Hermione responded staring at Draco. He just smiled into his drink as he sipped. He worked remarkably fast. "Why did you lie for me?"

"Is it really a lie? Basically everyone who is a pureblood is related at this point. It wouldn't surprise me if we shared a distant aunt some 300 years ago." He gestured vaguely with his hand.

"I highly doubt it. But I will take anyone who hates that woman into my family." She scoffed while shimmying out from the two boys.

"Seems like you have two additional members then." Blaise responded by shooting out his hand. "Blaise Zabini. My mother would like to take you shopping."

"You mother doesn't know me." Hermione responded by taking his hand with a raised eyebrow.

"Never stopped her before." He pulled back, tucking his hands into his pockets. "That woman is such a pain in my ass. Who's idiot idea was it to invite her?"

"No one with taste." She scoffed with a smile. In spite of his overall dark aesthetic he didn't exactly have an air of danger around him. Well, at least what kind of danger she was qualified to judge for. She had never spent any time dealing with him at school but his sharp smile warmed considerable as they spoke. Sure he had that same Slytherin look that they all did but she couldn't really lambast a fourth of the wizarding population or she would have never gotten anywhere. About an hour later she found Theo to be growing on her as well.

"I don't care what you say. Basin Newt tongue is not an acceptable substitute for veela claw." He practically shouted from his wicker chair.

"I didn't say it was." She shouted back, her head a bit fuzzy from the third yellow drink. "I said in certain potions it may be a better thickening agent."

"If you feel like exploding I suppose that would be as good as anyway to do it!" He laughed, throwing back his drink. He was many ahead of her and the two of them had been asked to take the conversation outside by the host 20 minutes ago.

"I think you're both Pillocks." Draco responded stepping out of the door to the roof with an amused grin. "I knew I shouldn't have brought you."

"Well pardon me for-"Hermione started. She knew she hadn't really belonged but she hadn't been that much of an embarrassment. She had managed to wander through some proper conversations as Mia Merago.

"Not you twit." He responded motioning towards Theo who was attempting to stand. "The pissed gorm over there."

"Mate. If you think I am down you are out. Wait… something like that."

"Never argue with a drunk person." He responded turning back to Hermione. "We're heading out. Want me to drop you off?"

"No I can take care-"

"You can't leave!" Theo whined as he righted himself. "The night is so young! And shame on you Draco. You can't drag her to this straight-laced cotillion and then call it a night."

"He's got a point." Blaise responded with a perally smile. "She sat through the worst part of the evening. She should get to come along."

"It's not really her scene." Draco responded. But now she was curious. Plus it was barely nine, she would still have to watch that awful tree evaporate.

"How do you know that?" She questioned with her arms crossed.

"Trust me." He smirked.

"As far as I can throw you." She huffed turning to Blaise. "I'm in. Where are we going?"

"That's a girl!" Theo responded clumsily pulling out his wand.

"You are not apparating me." Hermione cried as she snatched his wand away. He whined like an injured puppy.

"That was mean. You aren't really my cousin you know. You can't tell me what to do."

"Well I can." Blaise responded by taking the wand from Hermione's hand. "You can have this back once we get there. I'll take you and Draco will take Mia, alright?"

Theo must have done something to assure understanding as Blaise grabbed his shoulder and cracked away.

"I can go home." Hermione responded staring at the spot the two boys had just left from. She was suddenly feeling very out of place. Like a little sister who was just being indulged by her brother's friends. "I didn't mean to take over your night."

"I mean you can come." Draco responded rubbing the back of his neck. "I just don't think you'll like it. It's not very...tame.

He struggled for the word and Hermione was sure he had picked a few more insulting options before settling on that one.

"The implication being that I can't have a wild night every now and again?" She questioned with a smile.

"It is you Granger." He responded with a shrug. "I won't be a night of snuggling your pillow and reading sordid romance novels."

"Excuse-"

"Saw them in your library, swot. You can't fool me." He laughed in response. It was a deep hearty thing, oddly enough it filled her with warmth.

"Those were for research." She knew her cheeks had colored slightly. She gripped his left arm tightly, trying not to think about how much the unreasonably soft fabric for his jack had cost. "You can't tease me away. I am coming and that's final."

"Alright, alright. Looks like you're going to get that dance you want after all then." He shook his head as they left the rooftop garden with a crack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Floo Invitations:  
> When one does not want their private floo known to a lot of people one may send out an invitation that when burned creates one time access to the selected place. In this case the gas lamps outside a residence in Knightsbridge.
> 
> Magic Alcohol:  
> Various drinks in the wizarding world provide additional, party fun effects.  
> Hermione's- Star Struck Sour: A lemon based drinks that creates a sparkling trail of stars above the drinker.


	25. A Wild Night

He had no idea why she had wanted to come along. A part of him wanted to just apparate away and leave her on the rooftop just to see the ensuing explosion from the other side of London. But as their feet tapped onto the pavement outside of an old warehouse in the harbor district he begrudgingly accepted that the return of the bouncing excitement was worth it. She was going to be shocked. She would be appalled. She may even slap all three of them. But it wasn’t very often you got to show Hermione Granger something new. Or maybe it was, it’s not like he knew her that well.

“Well come off it then!” Theo called as he stumbled through a puddle towards a discreet metal door with a single glowing green light hanging from the lamp. The air had the vague scent of fish but vibrated with thumping music that made no attempt to hide behind charms.

“What is that?” Hermione whispered as if they were naughty children sneaking out of bed instead of grown adults.

“Come see.” He responded by setting off after the other two. He heard her heels click against the cobbles behind him, he was surprised she didn’t fall.

“Tell meeee.” She whined uncharacteristically as they grew closer.

“You drag me into things half cocked all the time. You can manage not knowing everything for once.” As they reached the door the small glowing light dropped down to eye level examining them closely.

“Classification?” As it spoke the little balled morphed into a tiny flame elemental. She stood on the air as if it were solid and impatiently tapped her foot.

“Wizard.” All three boys answered quickly. With a small elbow to her side from Blaise, Hermione responded in kind. The elemental only took a cursory glance at them before opening the door with a click.

“You know the rules. Have fun and tip your bartender!” The sound became deafening as soon as they entered the club. Heavy bass pumped through magically enhanced speakers and various lights sparked in and out of existence. The club didn’t recognize any holidays and it was Merfolk Monday so giant orbs of water floated above the dance floor and various pockets of the club. Draco watched a particularly large and spiny male drift from the bubble above his table and over to the one at the bar through a small stream that seemed to follow him.

Not that merfolk were the only creatures in the joint. A group of dryads has consigned a table to the left of the dance floor and had leaves and flowers spilling all around them as a very brave group of wizards wandered over to flirt from across their green wall. A faun’s hooves clacked angrily behind them as a witch threw her drink in his face, likely after a highly inappropriate remark. It was debauchery, it was chaos, it was everything Hermione Granger was not and yet when he turned to escort her out she was absorbing it all in wonder.

He tapped his throat with his wand before tapping hers as well. He felt instantly guilty as she jumped, her face schooling back to a sharp vigilance. “Sorry, gets too loud without a _proqere_ charm. Do I need to take you home?”

“No, not at all! This is amazing. There are so many different species here! Look how everyone is getting along. Malfoy do you realize what this means? The ministry-” He interrupted her with a hand motion as the crowd behind him pulsed, swaying him a bit too close before releasing him again.

“Leave it at the door, Granger.” He responded ignoring her hurt look. “Rules are rules. We are all just here to have a good time. Leave the implications and inhibitions at the door and just enjoy yourself.”

“How could I possibly-”

“It’s called fun, pay attention and you may learn something.” He smiled at her briefly, letting the casual air of the room cover him like a humid night. It was too many sensations all firing at once. Too many random touches and loud bangs. That was the joy of the place. You could just get lost in it. Draco didn’t even flinch as a familiar rosewood wand tapped against his throat.

“Well since this sod doesn’t know how to treat a lady.” Blaise swept past him, angling his body into the small space between Hermione and the wall as another group entered. “Let’s get out of this doorway and dance!”

“I don’t really dance.” Hermione responded with a small blush peppering her cheeks. It took all of Draco’s self control to not snicker. Blaise worked fast and had an insane success rate.

“See I thought you may say that.” The debonair held up a bright tangerine colored test tube that’s liquid was shifting between shimmery and glowing. He leaned against the wall on one arm looking every bit like the devil offering a deal. “Bottoms up.”

“I shouldn’t...” Hermione responded glancing at Draco. He had no idea why. 

“Come on Mia. Live a little.” He responded, throwing on his best bad decision smile. If she was going into this, he wanted her to have no illusions that it was a good idea. She granted him a nervous smile before tossing back the vial with reckless abandon. Instantly her cheeks warmed and she practically pulled the poor man’s arm out of his socket as she dragged Blaise away. Trusting him to not get her or himself killed Draco wandered over the booths. It’s not that they had a table persay, it’s just that every time they showed up the same one had been conveniently emptied. He wasn’t sure if it was magic or fear that did it.

Theo joined just as their waitress, a very fair skinned Rusalka appeared. He ordered a Shifting Shooter and the woman nodded before looking at Theo.

“I’ll have a wavy wingback and I won’t insult such a lovely creature as yourself by degrading you but my, you like pretty tonight.” He finished with barely a slur.

“I take it that means you want a double?” She questioned with an indulging smile.

“I love you.” He responded with dreamy eyes. She spat something good naturedly before filling their orders. He watched Hermione first with his friend before she was spun away by a blue skinned stoneman. There was just a flash of concern as he saw her next fall into the waiting arms of a young werewolf, but he forced himself to remain calm as the man was much more proper than half of the people out dancing. His hands remained staunchly on her waist after she whispered something in his ear. Likely some sort of threat.

The russian beauty eyed him evilly before dropping off both of Theo’s drinks with a smile. She never liked him much, he wondered why. He took a sip of his drink feeling the magic slowly seep into his hair.

“It’s blue.” Theo suggested helpfully. Draco simply nodded as he stared into the crowd watching the young witch weave in and out with reckless abandon taking partners where they surfaced. There was an innocence to it, in the depths of a dirty club. But then again, maybe this is where she was supposed to be if things hadn’t all gone to shit.

“Another.” Draco called to the waitress as he watched her spin under the arm of a minotaur. It was going to be a long night and he was just getting started.

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“I think that maybe, just maybe you deserved it.” She pondered while her legs hung over the massive armchair, strappy heels dangling in her hand. Theo’s house, no castle, was amazing and when they had settled there once the club had closed for the night she had to stop herself from just staying on the floor to stare up at the fresco. Nevermind that she had fallen there in the first place.

“Why? I reckon it was quite flattering.” Blaise responded with an ice pack pressed to his cheek and a bottle of sore-stopper. Draco re-entered the room taking an additional swig of sober up as he stumbled a bit.

“It was his fiancee Blaise.” Hermione chided, still feeling bubbly and warm.

“And I was just complimenting him on his stunning soon to be wife.”

“While implying that a night with you was worth a lifetime of him.” Hermione finished with a giggle.

“You’re lucky he didn’t break your arm.” Draco responded, losing the trip of his slur. His hair was still dyed a silvery pink that twinkled in the rising dawn. 

“The things I suffer for love. Mia?” Blaised asked as he stood.“Are you crashing here? You can always bunk with me.”

He finished the statement with a shameless wink before wincing at the pain. Hermione scoffed before responding. “Yes because you certainly look up to the task.”

“I could suffer it for just one night of your presence. I saw the way you dance you devil woman.” Hermione laughed uproariously at the idea of herself as a sensual creature.

“Even knowing that I would have to pass. Try to get some sleep before your hangover kicks in.” She responded with a hiccup.

“Alas, I go as I live. Alone and forgotten.” He sighed dramatically before wandering down the hallway, perfectly aware of where he was going. She figured they all must spend a lot of time here.

“Ready to go home?” Malfoy questioned as he pulled her up with a steady hand. She nodded tiredly. Draco was right, it was not her sort of place. But everyone should experience something at least once and it felt so normal to be lost in a sea of drunk and scandalous people her age. Well, relatively speaking

“Alright. Hurry it up, swot. I am hungover and ready for bed.” He held out his arm.

“I can do it.” She hiccuped and took his arm knowing she would probably slur the words and end up nowhere helpful.

Draco said nothing, just stepped into the fire with a slight chuckle as he called out the name of her workshop. As they arrived the lights rose to meet them, giving the home a cheery comfortable glow. She looked longingly towards her loft thinking of comfort.

“All set then?” Draco questioned as he pulled on his sleeve. He had gotten in the middle of the fight early and while deflecting any real physical damage the drink splashed on his chest had left a bright green stain.

“Mhmm. Thank you it was fun.” She slurred out unwrapping her scarf. With a quick shimmer the charm dropped and the scarf floated back to it’s rack. “Want some tea?”

“No.” He responded with an eye roll. “It’s 4 am.”

“Morning! Time for tea!” She responded excitedly. 

“No. I am going to bed. If you can’t climb the ladder, sleep on the couch.” He paused and grimaced at her hair. She probably had a lot stuck in it right now. “Your charms are still up.”

“Why thank you.” She responded, dropping the illusion charms. She could see her loose curls slowly fade back to her familiar honey brown. There was something she wanted to talk about. What was it?

“Alright. See you in a few days Granger.” He responded moving towards the fireplace. It was something important.

“Draco, wait.”She struggled trying to formulate the thought as he watched her with something between an amused and annoyed look on his face. 

“What?”

“It was just here…. Oh!” She remarked finally remembering, thinking of how much more the brunette drank than anyone else. “About Theo...”

All mirth was gone from his glance as it flashed to fury before settling back into tiredness as he gazed at her rug. “Yeah, we know.”

“And Blaise is going to get in some serious trouble if he keeps cadding around like that.” Hermione readied her ill prepared lecture.

“Yeah I know.” He stared at the floor for only another moment before meeting her eyes and forcing a smile. He made a shooing motion with his wand. “Run along now. You are too old to be tucked in. Go.” 

She complied, mostly because she preferred the look of annoyance to sadness. When she had safely scrambled up the loft she turned behind her to see him watching her. She settled quickly into bed and nodded.

“Night Malfoy.” She responded as he reached for the floo powder.

“Night Granger.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

The fires all died down as he left, coating her the gray light of dawn. With a sigh she closed her eyes and fell into a deathly sleep. She had been so tired she barely registered the shreds of red paper in the empty corner.

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The day following the holiday passed quietly for Draco. The afternoon after dropping his lightweight instructor off he swung by again to make sure she was still breathing. After ensuring that she hadn’t died he left a Restoration tonic next to her bed. When he came back the next day she was still hidden under a mountain of blankets but the potion was drained and her bathroom door had been cracked open. When he checked for signs of life he was met with a groan and something akin to a hiss. He quickly backed away reading the message clearly. A book arrived in his study with a hastily scratched note to copy it on the 30th, he assumed to silence the vow. 

Theo and Blaise had already recovered and were grilling him meticulously about the mysterious ‘Mia’ . He gave enough satisfying answers that they eventually grew bored with it, knowing they would probably never see ‘her’ again. Though he was partial to a new hair color and another night. It did Blaise good to be around a woman that could brush off his advances with a scoff. The man was far too cocky. He stared down at the paper wishing Rita was as easy to shut up.

_Nott a secret anymore!_ He scoffed at the headline before it changed, twisting into a rather fetching photo of Hermione relaxed against him responding to something Theo had said.

_Hidden Nott Heiress engaged to Draco Malfoy._

__

_You wouldn’t believe it if you were there. Indeed dear readers it appears the Malfoy bachelor has been destined to his best friend's family since childhood! The Notts and the Malfoys had always been close and this young love sprouted in those early years with forbidden summers, hidden away at a villa in Spain. When Miss Mia Merago (on her father’s side) needed to run from an abusive loveless marriage with an unfaithful man it was none other than Draco Malfoy to sweep her off her feet and carry her to safety. The love in their eyes-_

He crumbled up the paper with a groan he focused on the work in front of him. He was flipping through the last of the reports from Blaise on Hermione. He had never got around to actually reading them in depth and something about the recent jaunt had him wanting to know more about the swotty witch. He needed every scrap of information to stay on top of her in the constant battle for superiority. Unfortunately even the less-than-legal files Blaise had acquired months ago had resulted in next to no information.

Hermione Granger was a war hero. She grew up in the London suburbs to muggle parents who never involved themselves in the wizarding world and she cut contact with them during the war. She returned to Hogwarts and finished her schooling with a ridiculous seven Outstandings on her NEWTS and a Mastery shortly after graduation. She never showed up to accept it. She never took a job in spite of multiple offers. She was reportedly staying with the Weasleys but she never married Ron. At some point in August she just disappeared.

It is quite disappointing when you think about it. Sure, the papers all made some big mystery of it and there was a good amount of searching going on at first but other than that she just… disappeared. The news cycle got tired of the lack of leads and she was just snuffed out like a candle never to be heard from again. At least until Draco landed on her living room floor, drunk and disoriented . He sighed musing on how on earth Hermione Granger managed to clean cut away from the wizarding world without actually leaving it at all and most importantly, why? What happened to her that made her turn her back on her friends? The question was on his mind well into his dreams that night.

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It wasn’t until after the New Year that Draco got a normal response from Hermione. 

_Toadstool trapping at NL?_

**About time you resurfaced. Theo was about to call the ministry and that would have been awkward.**

_You aren’t mad at me?_

**I have had to deal with worse. Theo doesn’t look it but he's a fighter. And Blaise is at least 2 stones heavier than his profile in Witch Weekly.**

_With friends like you who needs enemies._

He smiled at the words before he could stop himself. He had to admit it at some point, he just didn't ever imagine he would think it so casually or without discussion. With undeniable truth somehow he and Granger had become friends. A title he reserved for only a select few he could trust unequivocally. 

He glanced at the altered stitch-fix potion that recently failed on his desk. While Blaise felt stronger for a period as soon as the potion wore off his arm was liable to snap again. Not to mention Blaise was distraught at the side effect that turned his skin furry and blue. Maybe it was time for him to tell her, what’s the worst that could happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proqere Charm  
> Allows conversation between linked individuals in loud places. When linked to one person you are also connected to everyone they are.
> 
> The Menagerie:  
> An all magic club where anyone and everyone can join. Open aggression among species can result in being kicked out. Magic use is strongly discouraged. Everyone is there to have some judgement free fun so leave it that way yeah? Theme nights vary daily and the club's decor is based on the theme.
> 
> Rusalka:  
> A beautiful pale Russian water wraith that lives in ponds and will bait out unhonorable men before pulling them in the water to drown. They are usually the spirits of betrayed young women.
> 
> Magic alcohol:  
> Tapping Tangerine: A citrus based shot that casues the intense need to dance  
> Shifting shooter: A cocktail that changes the color of the drinkers hair randomly, tends to taste like gin.  
> Wavy Wingback: A stiff drink that results in the drinkers feeling entirely at ease while still remaining upright.
> 
> Sober-up:   
> Results in an immedate whipe of drunkness. Does NOT repress the resulting hangover. Cannot be taken with hang-over cure.


	26. A Clearing of House

A few hours later they had collected a sizable amount of shrinking toadstools and were sitting on the edge of the marsh and the floodplains in Longbottom's greenhouse. The tricky little semi-sentient mushrooms had a habit of popping back into the ground if you weren't quick enough to swipe them. As such, the two of them were very tired and taking a break by a picturesque shore.

Long verdant grasses were patched along the break in the trees edging the water. They provided a lush carpet up until the abrupt drop off onto steep muddy banks. The humidity of the swamp was blown away by the cooling breeze coming off the large river. There was a rare glimpse of sky in the otherwise canopy packed greenhouse and he was currently laying back and enjoying it. Hermione was to his left reading a book she had pulled out of her bag while he watched the clouds soar over the glass roof.

"I am going to ask some questions." He stated settling further into the grass.

"Oh are you?" She didn't even bother to close the book.

"It's only fair after that enormous favor I did for you, taking you out like that."

"And enormous favor… really?" She scoffed and Malfoy couldn't help but feel a little proud that he was rubbing off on her.

"Really. I mean did you even see the bill from the Menagerie-"

She jumped immediately, scrambling for her purse. "I am so sorry. I had totally forgotten-"

"That things cost money?" He teased. " Don't worry about it. I am loaded, remember."

"Well you _are_ black mailing me." She responded but stopped shuffling around in the bag, returning to her book.

"You don't have to answer, not if you don't want to." He thought for sure her prolonged silence was a no as he traced the outline of the trees, drawing abstract shapes and shadows with his mind.

"I suppose it's fair, but only if I get to ask you questions in return."

"Deal." He answered immediately. She had a lot more to prove than he did.

"Fine, make it quick. I am reading about flickflan feathers and don't want to lose my spot." She responded as if she even stopped reading.

"Why potions?" He asked casually. It seemed like a nice way to ease in.

"I was good at them. And they have better versatility than cast magic. I had a project I was working on at the time, when I had completed it I was basically already here. You?"

"Professor Snape really liked me. Don't know why." He paused thinking of his previous head of house. He shivered at memories of long nights spent in the dungeons under the watchful eye and sharp tongue of Severus Snape. "I was a right prat."

"You still are." She responded with a smile in her voice.

"Anyway." He shot her a glare she didn't see and continued. "I was gifted in it to begin with. When he started offering me extra lessons I took them to spend more time with him. It made me feel special."

"You mean superior." Hermione teased.

"That too." He chuckled back. He thought for a moment before asking the next question. "Why did you know how to cast an unbreakable vow? It's not exactly common magic."

"Coincidentally, that involved your favorite teacher." She paused to flip a page. "After the war Harry wanted to know if Snape really had to kill Dumbledore or if there was another way out. No surprise, unbreakable vows are unbreakable."

Draco openly flinched. He supposed he deserved that. "That was my fault."

"Don't feel too bad. The old man was dying anyway. It bothers me he put himself in the position to offer you the choice anyway. You choose the right one for what it's worth. Speaking of which, how did you manage to fix the vanishing cabinet?"

"A threat to your life will do that to you." He responded pushing forward. "I was able to look at the runes that had been destroyed and partially recreate them. It took some trial and error though. Not unlike that magic mirror you are so fond of."

He turned over questions in his mind, trying to find something that provided valuable information but also something she would answer. He gave up after a moment and decide to satisfy his own curiosity. "What happened to you and Dung-brain?"

"Ron I assume?"

"Is that your question?" He teased before nodding. She somehow seemed less defensive about Weasley than Potter, the opposite of what one would expect. "You don't have to say."

"Ah well… it's not that painful. We just kind of… didn't work. Never worked, I guess. The world was moving so fast and we were so young. When the war spun down there just wasn't much nuance to it. It was like we had been following a path that we had been forced down then suddenly turned loose with no direction. It was... unsustainable."

"Hm." He responded thoughtfully. It was a thought worth considering. He supposed it made sense that Weasley stopped looking for her before Potter. Draco could think of very few ex- love interest he would want to help hunt down if they went missing.

"How did you end up with Blaise and Theo?" She had stopped flipping pages so at least she was entertained. "They're pretty fun guys but I didn't really remember them spending time with you at school."

"Ran into Blaise during the battle. He had been locked up with the other Slytherins. He came to stay with me while things cooled down afterwards." It was enough of a half truth that Draco didn't feel guilty. "We both found Theo a year or so later when that story about the time turners broke. Blaise knew he was a bloody genius with potions and we were just starting up so we cleaned him up and recruited him."

"How… opportunistic." She responded in an unapproving tone. He restricted his chuckle at her nativity.

"It was what it was. After a little while it was clear he had more in common with us than not so we all kind of just fell in. I like them." He added unprompted. "They have their own problems but they're good men."

"I agree surprisingly." Draco was suprised to find some small part of him warm at the realization that she got on with his friends. He may have thought more about it if he didn't have a bigger objective in mind.

"Why don't you talk to Harry?"

"I already told you." She responded before the question was even completely out of his mouth.

"You didn't tell me anything and you know it." He barely had time to recover before she fired a question back.

"Do you think we could have been friends? Immortality obsessed megalomaniac aside?"

"It's not your turn." He sighed, clearly recognizing the boundary.

"Don't care." She smiled with an evilness that would make Snape blush. "Answer."

"I mean blood issues aside… I don't know. You were smarter than me." He grimaced as he thought of how badly she out paced him their first two years. "I hated that."

"How you must suffer today." She nodded sympathetically and he threw a blade of grass that got stuck in her hair.

"But I don't know. Maybe when we were older. If you had been sorted into Slytherin or Ravenclaw of course. Never as a Gryffindork."

"Hm." She responded following a passage with her finger.

"What do you think?"

"You really want to know?" She questioned with a smirk.

"Well now I do."

"Well, if there were no war you'd still be that horrible boy who bullied me. Over the years I would learn to ignore it. You would have taught me that other people's opinions don't matter. I'd grow up and marry… I don't know Krum. And I'd come back to our 10 reunion ready to rub it in your face and be shell shocked when you laughed and told me the only reason you picked on me was because you liked me." She finished dramatically never looking up from her reading.

"I will have you know that I picked on you because you were unbearable and I was a shameless devotee of my father who was too stupid to question my parents or their opinions." He scoffed at the very idea. "I am deeply offended that you think I am carrying some sort of torch for you."

"You asked." she responded with a shrug. "That's how it goes in films. Your turn."

"Fine." He rolled his eyes and shifted gears to a lighter topic. "Why me?"

"'Why you' what?"

"Why did you pick me that day in Delhi?" It had been bothering him for ages. After all she knew it was him from the very beginning and offered him the vow anyway. "I know you needed someone idiot enough to fly you into a thunderstorm, and I know you didn't have Potter. But out of all the people in the world who could have helped you why me?"

"Well, it really was for the broom. Part of it was that I was getting desperate and just didn't have any more options as far as skill level." He preened a bit at that. "But I think another part of it was that when you entered my shop you looked exactly like your old self. A spoilt, arrogant, self absorbed-"

"Okay I get it. I am not following your logic though." He pouted as she settled back down.

"When you asked for my help it changed. You looked… I don't know. Tired. You looked like me." He thought about the answer for a while.

"Will you tell me what you need help with?"

"Pass." He responded instantly.

"But I can help you. You can return to your old life."

"I said pass." He huffed. He had honored hers. Silence extended over the course of minutes. He had started to drift off as he stared at the sky.

"Have you ever thought about going back?" Her voice sounded strange, enough that he forced his eyes opened.

"Hm?" He responded airly. The wine Luna had served them at lunch had been enjoyable but now was sending him into quite the steep crash.

"Like to change things?" She responded. He finally tilted his head up to read her expression. She was staring out past the banks and her book. Even upside down she looked lost in thought.

"Like that time Blaise decided that I would look wonderful in pink?" He questioned lightly. "I bet you would go back to that time third year I got a better score than you on our final exam for potions."

"You did not!" She snapped, instantly returning to _this_ world.

"Did so. You got an O with a remark that it was _nearly_ perfect." He returned to staring at the clouds. "I got an O with a comment that it was perfect."

"That was the exact same mark." She responded, swiping at his hair. Her fingertips barely brushed it but it was enough to fall into his eyes. He scowled at the annoyance.

"No. You needed improvement. I was perfect." He slowly pushed the hair out of his face in a way he knew exuded grace before settling into a smug smile. "That was the real reason you punched me that year and you know it. You've always been such a poor loser."

"You tried to kill Buckbeak!" She cried.

"The disgusting creature mauled a child."

"And tried to get Hagrid fired!" She responded with more exasperation.

"He let a child get mauled." He answered with a shrug. "I never did figure out how you ingrates got away with that scot-free."

"Time turner." She responded, back to her thousand yard stare.

"Nasty things, though now your question makes more sense." He offered as he shut his eyes. He had traveled via a time turner once, when he and Blaise picked up Theo. They knew they couldn't undo anything major but it was only after a mishap with a single tripping jinx that led to disastrous consequences that they swore it off entirely. After fixing the Eiffel tower of course.

"Sometimes I wonder if we could go back. Stop it all from happening." Her voice had grown far away again while he frowned at the idea.

"Bad things happen to wizards who mess with time. Leave it be Granger."

"Yeah." She responded with a sigh still seeming out of it. "You're right. I am going to go for a wander. You'll be here when I get back?"

He nodded his head and heard her footsteps fade away into the wind. He was contemplating a nap when a throat cleared. He didn't jump. He already knew who it was.

"Longbottom." Luna would have been humming. Hermione just left, and last he checked dogs could not clear their throats.

"Malfoy." He waited from his position in the grass. After a few minutes he began to wonder if the other wizard had left yet. "Well are you going to get up?"

"That depends. If I don't, are you ever going to leave me alone?" He sighed as he sat up. Neville was standing in front of him with his arms crossed. He was looking off to the side with the air of a man deep at odds with himself. His dark hair was plastered against his clenched neck muscles. Draco was willing to be he was clenching his jaw."You aren't about to confide in me or some other nonsense are you?"

"Why do you have to make everything so difficult." Neville said as he glared down at him. Draco figured he may as well stand. The herbologist hadn't hexed him as of yet but there was a first time for everything.

"Hermione says the same thing. I consider it a natural gift." He heaved himself to meet the other man's gaze. No wand was drawn so he slipped his hands into his pockets to keep them from making any aggressive twitches. "What do you want?"

Neville grimaced and opened his mouth as if to say something before shutting it again. Draco waited for two more iterations of this before growing annoyed.

"Well succinct as always. You should consider teaching."

"I liked you better when I never saw you." Longbottom responded with a sigh of his own. "I just wanted to say thank you."

Draco thought of how Luna had changed in the last few weeks. It wasn't anything particularly drastic to him, just a bit more sing-song and nonsensical, but he imagined that to Neville it was a huge difference.

"No big deal. Just some sticks and dirt. She's blood." He offered with a shrug. He didn't deal with gratitude well.

"It was more than that and you know it."

"Glad she's doing better." The silence stretched out but the brown haired boy still hadn't left. "Well I should-"

"I also need to thank you for my mom." Longbottom practically spat out the words.

"Pardon?"

"My mom. She's… better than she was. That was you."

"Last I checked I wasn't a mind healer." Draco responded suddenly interested in his own shoes.

"You updated the ward. You donated the supplies. You brought in the centaur..." He trailed off as if he was fighting to admit something. "She actually speaks to me now, you know."

Draco pushed down the surge of jealousy. "Good."

"Mostly nonsense of course. But it's so much more than I had. Paired with what Hermione did-"

"That's nice." Draco quickly wanted this conversation to end.

"Anyway. I was afraid Luna was going to end up like that someday." It was difficult not to hear the pain in Neville's voice. "She was starting to speak more nonsense than reality."

"How could you tell?" Draco scoffed. She may be a genius but most of his interactions with her felt like a great practical joke.

"I knew her before…" Neville trailed off. It may have been the longest conversation the two of them had ever had.

"Would you ever use a time turner? To go back and change all that." He hadn't thought of it in years, but one errant question from Hermione had thrown it back on his mind.

"No. It may have changed everything. But we're okay now. Better a small generation of people who aren't quite right than all of Britain falling." Draco risked a glance at the other man. He looked forlorn, staring at his own shoes.

"How do you get through it? You seem so normal compared to everyone." And he was. Even he and Hermione had their own mental ticks, not that they were overt. Neville seemed to be the only cogent one in their merry band of cock ups.

"I've got you fooled then." The other boy just laughed and shook his head. "I haven't been normal since the day my parents disappeared. I just have more practice with it. You'll get there. You all will."

"Or die trying." Draco thought back to that horrid color of off-white that was Hermione skin, lying near-dead by her floo. Had it really only been a few months ago?

"I suppose that's an option too." Longbottom cleared his throat again. "In any event I just wanted to thank you. And let you know as long as you keep it secret and above board. When this is all over with Hermione, you can come back here. I figure we owe you at least that much."

"Thanks." Draco choked out in surprise, not hat he hadn't been hoping for this very thing. It was no mistake that the other boy had merely tolerated him until this point. He clearly had a much higher capacity for forgiveness than Draco.

"I just wanted to tell you before... I don't know the details of the arrangement but I figure the end must be coming up soon." Draco scowled, instantly guilty. He wanted to tell her... but he wanted a lot of things. "You can trust her, you know."

"I know." Draco responded automatically. And he did trust her. It was just…complicated. "It's not really my story to tell."

He matched Neville's gaze and they hung there for a moment. There was a measure of respect to it. They both held themselves as pinnacles of their fields, born for greatness and blowing past those demands just to spite them. There was another layer to Neville's eyes. To Draco's surprise he recognized concern.

"Well... I hope when you two come out of this…"" He trailed off breaking the moment. "I just hope you two come out of this okay. You're welcome anytime. Just owl before stopping by. We can let you know if... anyone else is here."

Draco would like to think once freed he and Granger could still be… well if not friendly at least civil. But he supposed that depended on how she saw it. Sure she traded barbs and threw good-natured insults his way. But was that really how friendship worked for her? She had spent her life surrounded by love and kindness. Compared to those relationships, his own were practically skeletal. He didn't even know how to make friends that weren't inseveribly linked by a dark past which, big surprise, was his fault too.

"Hey Longbottom." The botanist glanced over his shoulder lazily. "The offer from a few years back still stands if you ever want to come back to the present. Theo can't find a halfway decent herbologist on this side of the ocean."

Neville smiled sadly. "No, there's not really a place for any of us in your world. I am surprised you are struggling along so well as is."

There was a crack of apparition and the man disappeared leaving his one liner floating in the air. And that was how Granger found him sometime later, staring up at the clouds with a pensive sadness floating around him and a distinct lack of questions.

0000000000

Things were going well. Theo and Blaise were arranging the press release for Hermione's potion. It looked like it was going to be a huge hit. Theo had even been discussing looking into clinical uses. Blaise had really taken over the spearhead on the company lately. Draco himself just couldn't really bring himself to care much about his private clients and often just left their orders sitting on his reception desk with a note of consumption instructions. Instead he was spending more and more time at a familiar workshop looming over London.

He jumped when green flames erupted from the floo. Nearly spilling a whole bottle of ghoul's oil into the pixie repellent potion Hermione was teaching him to make. The witch in question looked up from some sort of sales ledger she was reading in equal shock. He was mentally prepared to duel, already pulling out his wand. The more time he spent here, the more obvious it became that for whatever reason, no one other than him and Hermione stepped foot in her workshop. He would question why, if he hadn't lived through the attacks of the last war. He himself had stormed through unsuspecting soul's floo with semi-regularity.

However, when the flames died down and a small brown package jumped out of the soot and onto the dingy rug.

"It's mine." He stated, rushing over to the paper wrapped parcel. He picked it up carefully, though there was no need to treat it with such delicacy.

"I was unaware this was your new post box." Hermione scoffed as she returned to her reading.

"Oh don't be so uptight. It was a personal-direct delivery. They would have delivered it to the minister's office if I was there when it was sent." He unwrapped the corner just a bit to see the silky black fabric catch the light.

"Is it anything fun? Or just more Snape Grease. Oh. I'm sorry, hair gel." She smirked and flipped a page.

"Sod off Granger." He shrunk the package and slipped it into his pocket. Tomorrow was Sunday and it was shaping up to be a good one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Shrinking Toadstools  
> Little red and white mushrooms that grow at the base of swamp trees. When they detect danger they shoot back into the ground making them impossible to retrieve. Gatherers must sneak up on them from the other side of the tree and pounce before they are noticed.
> 
> Personal Direct Delivery  
> An expensive form for package delivery that will ensure your mailing item is sent via floo to wherever the person is. Each package contains an individual tracking charm in order to find it's recipient.


	27. A Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a mini chapter.

It had all gone terribly terribly wrong. He stared at the wreck that was once his living room. The overturned coffee table was splintered apart. The white marble of the floo was ash stained with some large swaths missing. His curtains were slightly singed and one of the windows was completely shattered. To make matters worse he was still so angry!

What had happened? It started off so promising.

000000000000000

“Come in.” He thought the thready voice sounded stronger this morning. With a smile he pushed his way into his mother’s room.

They were in the dining room this time, the one from his childhood. Not the one still sitting undisturbed in the manor. He shivered. He was never going there again. The huge grecian fireplace was a bright and polished white. A pair of chandeliers tinkled above his head cheerfully. Even the rug, no longer stained burnt red, looked warm and inviting. He resisted the urge to cringe.

She was sitting at the head of the long mahogany table with a smattering of papers laying on the surface. As he walked over they displayed a great deal of interior design and decorations invoices along with a smattering of food options. Party planning then.

“Good morning Ms. Malfoy.” He responded already reaching for his card.

“Oh?” She questioned with light mirth as she stared down at the papers. “Well good morning. Mr. Malfoy.”

He paused as she looked up, absolutely besotted. He resisted the urge to immediately turn around and leave.

“Party planning are we?” He slid into the proper pose of his father, trying hard to resist the slimy feel. The first time she had mistaken him for his father he beat a hasty retreat and she had to be tranquilized for three days.

“Aren’t I always, love?” She smiled before shuffling through the papers. “The caterers are all desperately bidding to be selected, the gardeners are swearing you can’t get winterberries in July, and the stable master is throwing a fit about how unequipped we are for unicorn housing.” 

His heart ached as she sighed in exasperation. She looked stressed but it was an absolutely normal everyday witch kind of stress that made him long for years past. He recalled the exact day she was planning.

“Have you considered hexing them?” He responded dryly.

“Lucius!” She hiss immediately as she glared at him. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s Draco’s 11th, it must be magical.”

Draco felt his heart ping again as he had to fight the urge to cringe. Instead he settled for an indignant snarl.

“It’ll be our last year with him… before.” To his absolute horror his mother began to cry. Delicate wispy like tears that fell like crystals. So fragile.

“Don’t cry Cissa.” He responded, patting her back comfortingly. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do. He had no memory of how his parents interacted in private and since he had elected to skip those parts of her diaries for his own sanity he was flying blind. “He will be back on holidays.”

“I know that. I just… When did he get so big?” She looked up at him with crystal eyes. 

“That tends to be the process.” He responded forcing his face into a half smile. “They start small and needy, then they grow large enough to ship them away for a while. Don’t worry. He will still need you for a few years yet.”

“Do you think so?” She sniffed lightly. He thought back to his first years at school and the absolutely embarrassing amount of letters he had sent home. Most complaining about Harry Potter and Hermione actually.

“I know so.” Draco pulled the little brown package out of his pocket with a grin. His mother had always loved presents. “Look dear, I picked something up for you.”

Her tears dried with a careful pat of a delicate lace handkerchief. He was rewarded with a sparkling smile.

“Lucius.” She smacked his arm playfully. “You are such a romantic!”

As she grabbed the package carefully, like how one would hold a bird. If he didn’t look too closely he could barely see her hands shake. With delicate motions she carefully unfolded the paper uncovering the mass of folded fabric. A delicate flick of her wrist and the feather light material expanded out, settling lightly on the table. 

“Oh it’s beautiful! And so well made.” Her small hand drifted across the dragonhide that had been beat into supple submission. It had been crushed lightly, mimicking the texture of a calm midnight sea. It fell to the floor with delicate silver trim and a eight pointed star clasp at the neck.

“Harvested it myself. An ancient creature she was. Stunning too. 20 meters high, black and silver scales.” He commented with an unearned amount of pride. It wasn’t like she really had to know the details.

“Hush you silly man. If a dragon appeared you would run screaming.” She teased lightly as she wrapped the cloak around her shoulders. It was impossibly light and fell softly on her shoulders, drifting on the smallest breeze.

“I resent that.” He snorted in response as she spun. She looked so odd, her hair a mess; a rumpled robe made of cheap fabric topped by a cloak more expensive than the room she was in. However she looked happy and that was enough.

“Thank you my dear.” She smiled and wandered over to him. She reached her arms up to his neck and he settled into the hug. He presented his cheek.

“Lucius?” She questioned as Draco stared off towards the wall. “Lucius? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing my dear. Nothing at all.” He pulled back slightly, finding himself locked in by her arms. 

“Why won’t you kiss me?” A surge of panic bubbled in his throat.

“Just… didn’t want to ruin your makeup my star.” He almost sighed in relief as she backed away. He would have if it weren’t for the shaking in her hands.

“Sod the makeup. What’s going on?” Her voice took on a higher pitch of fear. 

“Nothing my love. I was just-”

“When was our first date?” She shot immediately wrapping her arms around herself.

“6th year. Shortly after our engagement I took you to Hogsmeade.” He responded reciting the story from memory. She had told him many times when he was younger. He was genuinely surprised when her eyes began to tear up.

“No. That's wrong. Before we were engaged we spent that night on the lake before we went to the broom closet.” Draco resisted the urge to gag. There was a reason he had been told the other story.

“Of course. I hadn’t forgotten Cissa. I just thought you would consider-”

“Who are you?!?” She screeched, reaching for a wand that wasn’t there. “You aren’t Lucius.”

“Narcissa-” He reached out towards her in a last ditch effort to get her to calm. 

“OUT!” She ripped off his cloak and whipped it at his face. The fabric barely registered, even as the thick silver clasp scratched his cheek. “GET OUT! I’ll call the aurors! HELP HELP!”

Draco backed away slowly as the room began to morph in response to her magic, darkening. The natural light in the room faded out, the candles around the room flaring to light. Slowly those deep red stains welled up from the carpet like sick spring flowers.

“Mother, please.” He pleaded, wincing as an invisible force blew past him, shattering a vase in the corner. The shards disappeared immediately, after all it wasn’t really there.

“Don’t you talk about my Draco! Where is he? What did you do to him? I’ll kill you! Avada Kedavra.” She screamed wildly as she pointed a wand that wasn’t there. He flinched at the small flicker of green that sprouted from the end of her finger. A failed spell, but one with enough intent. 

“I’m leaving. I’m sorry.” He continued to back away as the door burst open. A team of medical wizards burst in, casting restrictive but harmless charms on her. She screamed violently, her eyes filled with fear.

“Lucius! Help me! They’re taking me! Lucius!” He sobs racked the room as Thanius entered with a crash. He took one look at the scene as a silencing charm was cast on her by one of orderlies. Her face still contorted in agony even though it wasn’t producing sound.

“You should leave Draco.” He commented with a stomp of his hoof.

“I didn’t mean-” He stammered out as he stared at the offending cloak balled up in his hands.

“I know, son. I know. But please. For you mother’s sake.” He cringed as she broke free of the restraining charm, lashing out at the nearest witch. She grunted as his mother’s nails raked down her cheek.

“Draco. Out.” Thadius huffed with a push towards the door. The centaur immediately set towards his mother casting their brand of a calming charm. Draco quietly watched the light in his mother's eyes die as they met his.

With no other option he fled.


	28. A Violent Plea

Hermione had taken to enjoying her Sundays off. Not that she minded having Draco over. As a matter of fact it was his manpower that allowed her the consistent day off in the first place. It was just nice to be able to actually manage the little things that usually slipped through the cracks. Her mantel place has never been so dusted.

She had been gardening up on the roof earlier and was still drying from the resulting shower. The winter cold of late January had slipped through her anti-draft charms and was drifting around the windows stubbornly. As such she had settled near her work table, processing tax payments to the various ministries. Tax code changed all over the world, and although she had specifically set up in countries that had straightforward systems it was still a lot of math. She would have used an accountant if it weren't for all the explanations she would need. Maybe Draco knew someone who could keep quiet-

Her thought process was interrupted by the flare of green. She ducked under the table her wand was out prepared to fire when Draco stormed in. He whipped around violently, looking somewhat akin to a snarling beast.

"Granger! Granger! Where are you? Get out here!": He cast a violent _reducto_ at once of her couches and it exploded to bits. Without a moment's hesitation she cast a silent petrifying curse not expecting it to do much. The resulting thunk indicated that, for whatever reason, the curse had made it past his shields and he was lying on her floor.

With a careful breath to school herself she wandered over looking somewhat bemused. The blonde body was laying as stiff as a board with an angry glare pinned on her. She grimaced in the direction of her destroyed furniture. "You were always so dramatic. I am going to let you calm down for a moment then I will unfreeze you so you can apologize for destroying my couch. You could at least have the decency to destroy your's."

She spent the next five minutes piecing together her living room and letting her thoughts run wild. The last time he was here on a Sunday was the time he nearly sent himself into a coma from magical exhaustion. She surmised that whatever happened on Sundays, when it went poorly, she had somehow ended up on clean up duty. Finally figuring he had calmed enough she released the curse only to be met by a thin hawthorn wand.

"Wand out Granger we're dueling." He had pulled up to his full height. His eyes were steely and cold. For the first time since they met Hermione actually felt afraid of him. Though it was a bit underhanded she quietly tipped her wand upwards from her hip, covering the motion with a gasp.

Silently the second petrifying curse hit, Draco going rigid and falling towards her. She stepped out of the way as he smashed into the floor. A sick crunching sound indicated that he had likely broken his nose.

"Alright so you still need some time. Ten minutes then." Her voice was calm but her heart beat in a violent staccato. It had been a while since she had been directly faced down like that. There was cruelty in that look. She could practically taste the anger in the air.

After ten minutes had passed the boy shot up still angry. She had kept her wand trained on him but he hadn't raised his. Instead his selected weapon of choice was a voice was laced with poison. "Fight me you stupid bint. I _must_ see the great Hermione Granger in action."

"I'm not going to duel you Malfoy. Not when you are like this." She responded calmly. He had clearly lost his mind. "Besides, I have neglected my dueling skills in the past years. I will thoroughly wallop you in a Limitless Match."

"Come on you filthy little mudblood. I dare you-" His voice cut out as she hit him with a binding spell. The silk ropes wrapped his legs and arms tightly to his body, even producing a thick bandage over his mouth. With great patience she levitated him over to her armchair not really caring if he got levitation sickness.

"Now you listen here Malfoy." She started punctuating each word with a flick of her wand, the silk tightening slightly until he winced. "I don't know what happened. I don't know where you came from. But I know you are hurt."

He flinched and looked angrily to the side. "It's obvious. In any event, it is okay for you to be hurt. It is okay for you to come here when you are. What is NOT okay is for you to throw a destructive tantrum like you are in a shoddily written novella. Now you will remain tied up until you are ready to apologize and if you try to threaten me again I will throw you out that window naked and see how long it takes the prophet to show up. Am I clear?"

She huffed as he glared at her. Her lecture felt good but didn't actually do anything to alleviate the situation. She spun swiftly forcing herself to return to the taxes.

Hermione understood of course. She had a fairly legendary temper as well and violence certainly felt good when she was wrapped up in it. However, they were adults, not tantruming five-year-olds. And they had magic which made them deadly. She absolutely would not put up with it. The first time she was too shocked to do anything until it was over. She gave the impression of a punching bag, an outlet. That was a mistake.

After ten minutes he was still fighting the restraints. After twenty he was still glaring at her as if he could set her on fire. Finally after thirty minutes tied up on her chair she looked up from the finished tax codes to find him slouching, resigned.

"Are you done?" She questioned walking over to glare at him. His clothes were their usual standard of long black slacks and a pure white dress shirt. However, his collar was rumpled and his shirt wrinkled in odd spots. There was also a fresh cut on his face she hadn't noticed. She didn't think he had done that.

He didn't respond. "Because I can leave you here for days. I know ways to spell food and water directly into your stomach. It's not pleasant of course but it will serve."

Finally he scrunched his nose and met her eyes. He nodded in defeat as she spelled away the ties.

"Sorry." He mumbled like a child who was being scolded for pulling his sister's hair.

"Sorry? You think sorry cuts it? What the shite, Malfoy? You come into my home, attacking me, threatening me, after I provided you free reign here. You could have killed me. You could have killed Crookshanks. Your anger is out of control." She spat, letting the panic filter into her voice.

"I know I just-"

"If you know then what were you thinking? I am not a dueling dummy. If you want to throw curses and destroy things do it at your house, not mine." He looked guiltily away as he crossed his arms.

"You already did, didn't you?" The realization dawned on her.

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do with my house." He spat, though his heart wasn't in it.

She forced her own anger down and sighed as she fell on her newly repaired couch. "That's not okay Draco. You can't deal with things that way."

"I know." He responded hotly.

"You're going to kill someone one day."

"I won't."

"What if Blaise had flooed over. Or Theo? Or your house elf? What if the wrong person crossed your path?"

"They know not-"

"But what if they did? People forget, they may make mistakes. You can't lash out every time something upsets you. No matter how valid it feels." She finished, staring at the tired man in front of her. He had folded his hands in his lap and was tracing the family ring on his right hand. After five minutes of silence she tried again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She questioned neutrally. Honestly she wanted to know what the hell had set him off. It was a morbid curiosity since there was no way it was anything good.

"No." It was an expected response.

"Fine. Do you want anything? Books, water-" She was about to list off other distractions for him when he cut her off.

"Let's go." He stood up suddenly and Hermione flinched for her wand. Thankfully he either didn't notice or didn't care.

"Go? Where?" She pulled herself up and handed off his wand from where she collected it on the floor.

"I don't know, somewhere. Anywhere that's not here." He finished looking closely at her.

"You can't run-"

"I know." He responded quickly, shoving his hand into his pocket. "I just… can't be here right now."

Hermione wanted to push. She really did. She wanted to pull his hair and kick his shin and ask what the hell was bothering him. But she didn't, instead she just sighed and cracked her neck.

"Fine." She grabbed her scarf off it's hook and the bag that hung next to it.

"Good."

" Let's get you cooled off." She headed toward the bathroom, flicking open the switch. "I assume you can't be around people right now?"

"No." She nodded and opened the linen closet. She cycled the door three times before waving him in. He stepped through the curtain silently and she followed.

"Hello. May I help you?" They arrived in a rustic wooden shop, set up like a general store. Her potions lined one wall, glittering in their bottles. They were nothing fancy, just the sort of every day potions a town would need to ensure survival long enough to call for a doctor and some basic house hold potions. The rest of the store contained the usual supplies, milk, eggs, sugar and the like. The child behind the counter who had spoken couldn't have been older than nine and looked the spitting image of her mother with strawberry blonde hair and earthy brown eyes.

Hermione wrapped the scarf around herself changing to a young witch with long light blond braids. The girl gasped and called for her mother.

"What is it?" Anya responded as she marched into the room. Her eyes landed on Hermione and she started. "Mrs. Krum. I am so sorry I didn't notice you had arrived. Please forgive Katarina. She is just now old enough to watch the shop."

"She looked different mama. Her hair was huge and brown and-" The child cried out.

"I know baby. Shhh. it's okay." She turned back to Hermione and smiled lightly. "Did you need anything? We weren't expecting a delivery until next week."

"No.'' Hermione responded, her voice dropping a few octaves and sounding thick. "Just here for a quick trip. No need to bother yourselves."

"Okay, we'll move in back until you are done. Would you and your-" She paused glancing at Draco. "Brother need anything?"

She should have been able to tell Draco was in a bad way considering he didn't even look slightly offended. "No that will be all, Anya."

The woman nodded and shuffled herself and her child to the back room. Hermione turned to check on Draco who was just staring out the window indifferently. She wasn't even sure he could hear them.

"Are you ready?" She questioned holding out her arm as she prepared to apparate. It wasn't far, just a dozen kilometers. He said nothing as he took her hand and she pulled.

They landed thickly on a heavy wooden floor. The fire roared to life, the common orange of utility. She shook off the cold of the room as the warming charms slowly activated.

They were a large hunting cabin up in the mountains. Thick snow covered the trees through the window and a fierce wind howled with the violence of winter. She grabbed a blanket off of the rack and threw it towards Draco. He made no move to do anything so she steered him towards one of the large wing back chairs in front of the fire. The plush chairs held the heat well and the cheery bright green distracted from the dark wood all around them. Hermione had insisted that the dead animals be removed from the walls but they were replaced with various mounted weapons. Better than what it had been she supposed.

They sat in silence as the room warmed slowly. Moving from a dark and brooding hideout, to something more akin to the front of a Christmas card. She let him sulk while making the two of them hot chocolate.

"Sundays can be bad for me." His statement broke the silence of the room gently.

"I can tell." She responded adding a few extra marshmallows.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"That's fine." She carried over the tray and set a mug in the Slytherin's hands. He looked down at it a moment before taking a sip.

"So…" He offered as she sat, sipping her cup. It was thick and heavy on the vanilla. Just the way she liked it.

"So?"

"I thought you said you weren't married." She detected a note of bitterness in his voice and smiled into her drink before responding.

"I'm not."

"Mrs. Krum?" He questioned apparently finding the drink acceptable and taking a long sip.

"Well it is Victor's cabin."

"You still talk?"

"In a way. He knows I use this place. So do the locals. Neither of us had corrected them thus far." He had offered her the use of his summer hunting cabin years ago when she had first left. She wasn't sure how he had found her in the first place, but the offer seems wholly understanding. Since then they had only run into each other once. She thought back on that first Christmas fondly. She wasn't the only one needing a hide out.

"It's nice." He managed to choke out as he eyes the thick animal skin rugs. "Rustic."

"I think I prefer your insults to your small talk." She smiled as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Your hair is terrible."

"Ah, mudblood and hair jokes. You are in fine form today." She only felt a bit bad when he winced.

"I didn't mean it. I was just trying to bait you."

"I know." She responded and let the silence fill the air. After their cocoa was drunk and the house had been warmed he cleared his throat.

"So… A cabin in Bulgaria? Not much to do here." She smiled to herself as he glanced around. "Unless you are trying to seduce me I suppose."

"So young, so blind." She ignored the statement as if it weren't even worth entertaining. The sun was setting and they could set off soon. "You didn't think I was just going to take you here to drink cocoa and pout did you?"

"You aren't exactly known for your comforting skills." He scoffed standing as she did.

"Oh, how would you know?"

"Call it a wild guess." She rolled her eyes and headed for the coat rack. She shoved a thick white fur over herself nearly stumbling under the weight of it. Figuring Victor wouldn't mind she floated his over to Draco. She could barely lift that one.

"Well are you coming or what?"

"Ah, yes a walk in the Bulgian mountains during winter. How droll. I wonder if they'll find our bodies by spring." He slithered into the heavy black coat anyway looking very much the picture of a bald-faced bear.

"I'm not walking through this much snow are you crazy? Besides you are the one who needed to cool down." He flinched and she hurriedly moved on toward the attached storage shed. "We're taking the sleigh. Let's go."

He huffed but followed her in silently. The old sleigh had been charmed generations ago and looked every bit the traditional winter sled. The wood was painted a merry green with gold trim and little details depicting falling leaves. It was enchanted with warming charms but they would still need the coats.

She flung open the shed gate and the first wave of winter wind pushed through like a raving animal burning her cheeks. She hurried back to the safety of the charms and jumped in the sleigh pressing it forward. The wood creaked into motion, shooting off into the snow like it was properly drawn by horses instead of magic. It was a fairly rough ride as they whipped past trees and mountains. Hermione was focused on the route but Draco was clearly enjoying the scenery. It was silent for a spell as they traveled, the cold air chilling his anger.

"I must admit Granger. It's quite beautiful out here." He jostled a bit closer as they hit a thicker branch. His hand rested briefly on her thigh before he realized and pulled it back. Hermione couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed, it was frigid and she could use the warmth. As if summoned he shifted his whole body a bit closer to hers, their coats melting into a heathered mix of black and white. His body heat mirrored her own and she was finally able to release the tension in her shoulders. "Though I am not sure what exactly you would want to collect out here. Most things will be dormant by now."

"Ha." She produced a short humorless laugh as they crested a hill. The speed increased as gravity pulled them down through a massive snow bank, sending the white powder up into the air. It sparkled in the fading sun and it chuffed Hermione to see the normal reserved wizard so properly appreciative. "I don't work on Sundays."

"Then what are we doing out here?"

"You asked me to take you somewhere." They crested another steep hill as the sled pulled to a stop. It's warming charms sizzled where they touched the snow, melting a small ring around them. Seeing that hey had stilled Draco threw his arm cross the back of the sled."So I took you here."

"A hill?" He questioned looking around for something else to indicate the importance of the vista. He would see nothing yet. Just an open snow blanketed field surrounded by deep forest. Hermione just smiled as the sun slowly dipped below the mountains.

"Just wait." And so they did. With Draco waiting next to her she shifted toward him trying to steal a bit more body heat, letting her shoulder rub against his chest and leaning back for his arm to cover her neck. Without apparently being aware of it he pulled back his shoulder allowing her to encroach and she was finally passably warm. It was a good 15 minutes until the first flakes began to fall. Big thick clumps that dropped more slowly than their size indicated. Little crystalline structures began to take place where the snow fell building up to vague approximations of pillars. Suddenly music and laughter sounded in the distance. Hermione smiled and turned toward the entrance to the wood.

The bells came first. The shot out of the dark as blurs that rang with the sounds of Christmas. Soon joining by the lighting pickings of a harpsichord. Behind them trailed a thick blue sparkle of magic. They fixed themselves onto the pillars, morphing the ice into chairs and tables and light post. Draco started beside her, eyes trained on the forest.

Next exploded the dancers. Their blue glassy forms glittered in the growing moonlight as it caught the delicate glass wings on their back. They swirled and spun, throwing up great clouds of snow and allowing it to fall yet again as they carve a path to the tables, flat ice forming under their feet.

The last of the elementals were the stocky lumbering Yetis with their snow white fur and glowing blue eyes. They carried in all manor of dishes and drinks on large trays at least as wide as their sleigh. With an uncharacteristic delicacy they placed the dishes gently on the table before melting back into the snow.

"What's going on?" Draco whispered with the appropriate amount of reverence.

"Shhh it's time for the procession." She whispered in return, readying herself for the best part. The harp trickled out as the first elves made their way through the snow, their trains dragging behind them barely disturbing the perfect white blanket. The dancers were sent into motion as the delicate strings were joined by a hearty flute.

"Fae." Draco breathed out eyes latched on the pair as they emerged. Their skin was a soft moon white, with crystal gray eyes bigger than any natural human shape. Long pointed ears were pierced with all manner of silver hoops and jewels. They both wore robes but the female's were certainly more impressive than his. They flared out behind her in a constant flowing breeze, entirely transparent until they fell folding onto each other in a soft ice blue.

Her hair was a floor length shock of white, even against the freshly fallen snow, as if they were to stop moving they would simply melt into the background. Topping both of the regal heads was a complicated glittering crown of ice, woven into impossible shapes of snowflakes and spheres. Hermione was sure that magic was the only thing keeping the heavy pieces from falling off their heads. Not that she had ever asked

Similar couples emerged behind them. The ice lamp post lit as they walked with a soft blue flame. The simple ice flooring developed a crystalline pattern with every step. As they took their place at the head of the table frost exploded outwards from the chairs revealing intricately carved details and scenes. Trays of food frozen in stasis warmed and colored pigment splashed onto the otherwise blank landscape. The lesser couples gathered at the table but none were so grand as the queen and king.

It was gaudy, impractical, excessive and it was beautiful. And thus as the queen turned her graceful head and watched them, her eyes glistening with mischief and humor Hermione smiled back.

"Are you ready?" She breathed as her heart warmed glancing at the sheer wonder on his face.

"For what?"

"We've been invited to dinner." Of its own violation the sleigh slowly descended the hill drawing them close to the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Limitless duel-  
> An anything goes type duel. This includes potions, physical violence, cast magic, weapons and transfiguration. By their very nature injury and death are frequent accidents. As such they do not occur often.
> 
> Victor Krum-  
> As a man in the limelight he too say the need to escape. He has never questioned Hermione about her reasons for running and doesn't ever see her either. He is happy to just provide her the option of using his own hide away. He will not be appearing in this fic.


	29. A Fairy Tale Ending

His foot tapped on the beautiful mosaic glass. He was more than prepared to catch himself if he slipped on the perfectly unmarked ice. To his surprise his feet found purchase, no different than the cold marble flooring of his own dining room.

More out of habit than anything he offered his hand to help Hermione down. Her thick white fur coat made it awkward and difficult to exit the sleigh. As she stepped down on the ice next to him he turned his focus to the massive ornate scene before him. Small pixies giggled as they hung in air, holding bells and evergreen garlands. Their path was guided by the scented ropes directing them directly to the head of the table.

As they arrived he bowed out of habit, surprised to find Hermione performing a passable curtsey.

"Rise mortals." Now that he was closer the queen was breathtakingly beautiful. She had a soft angled face with mysterious storm cloud eyes that mirrored his own. However, where his eyes were merely gray hers were silver. The silver of the moon. The silver of a freshly strung bow. The silver of forbidden mercury that begged-

He shook his head willing his mind to clear. The fae had magic and their galmores were both enticing and deadly. They held the oldest and most powerful magic in the world, a fact that Draco would do well not to forget. If they wished him dead it wouldn't take them any more effort than to breathe. He rose from his bow to a hearty chuckle.

"So he had some backbone." The king's voice was thick and rich. Hermione was shaking off a similar but less pronounced glassy look and smiled cordially.

"Hello Your Majesties."

"It has been a moment Dear One." The queen smiled. Hermione nodded carefully and Draco resisted the urge to snort. A moment to the fae could be years to humans.

"What have you brought to my table?" It was a demand not a question. He remained calm thinking of the dragonskin cloak in his pocket. Would that be a suitable enough offering to keep their heads? Would they see the death of a dragon as an affront? He really wished he had learned more about the old ones at some point.

To his surprise Hermione reached into her endless bag and pulled out a whole cake. It was topped with whipped cream and bright out of season strawberries crowned its rim. It looked absolutely delicious but he doubted it would be worth a glance let alone their lives. Then again, Hermione seemed to have the oddest collection of friends.

Regardless the king smiled and held out his hand. With aching carefulness Hermione placed the cake on his open palm, careful not to let her skin brush his. Her head lowered and she drifted back to Draco's side as the king gazed approvingly.

"The fruit of spring and dough from a warmed fire."He hummed thoughtfully. "A rare treat. You may join my table. Be as if we are all the same."

Draco let out a sigh of relief at the acceptance. Hermione bobbed a short curtsy again before turning towards the opposite end of the table. "Thank you, Your Grace."

"Ah." The queen froze her with a simple word. Her eyes bored into Draco like she could freeze him solid where he stood. Hell she probably could. "Not today, Dear One. You shall sit with my family tonight."

Hermione turned her eyes downcast and curtsied deeply. Draco followed only seconds behind, not sure what exactly was happening. It was merely a moment, less than a blink. Suddenly the queen was standing in front of Hermione, tipping her head up. Draco couldn't suppress the quiet swallow from his throat. Looking amused, the queen eyed him thoughtfully.

"Your meekness is worthy, but distasteful. Cease." Hermione unfolded and simply nodded her head slowly. "Of course Your Grace."

They were guided, much to his horror, to the left of the queen. The two elves occupying the chairs vanished instantly, leaving glittering crystal chairs empty. He pulled back Hermione's first, placing her closer to the queen. She took his hand as he guided her into a graceful position before joining her on the left.

These were wholly unlike any elves he was used to. The house elves had split off from their natural line millennia ago. The story went that it had something to do with a love struck fae prince and a common witch. Add in a healthy dose of betrayal and you ended up with a cursed fate. It was apparent the elves had gotten the worse end of the bargain.

He could barely maintain an upright position with the magic floating around so thick in the air it felt as if he couldn't breathe. He could have dinner with the fairies. He had broken bread with the Dark Lord. Comparatively this was… a whole lot worse. He was exactly sure how he planned to choke down the meal.

With a wave of his hand the table was silenced as the king's voice rang out. "Eat and be merry, as this moon dies we will live."

As if he had slipped into another party, cries and laughter filled the air. The food in front of them portioned itself onto their plates as their goblets filled with deep ruby wine. He stared at the enticing food in front of him, his mouth watering. But he knew, hell even the muggles knew, you never take food from the fae or you won't be going home.

A gentle nudge against his side nearly caused him to flip his tray. Hermione was looking kindly at him, her fork filled with some sort of cheese and green jelly. She smiled and took a bite. His panic slowly wore away as she took another, not jumping into an endless dance or eating herself into gluttony. He took a bite of the potatoes. Marveling in their flavor and lightness in spite of the cold. The meat was all raw so he thought it best be left alone and focused on the more palatable parts of his plate.

"So who have you brought, Dear One?" The queen questioned warmly matching the party around her. "He looks so like us."

"This is Draco." Hermione responded politely in a noticeably proper way. Something told him things weren't going according to plan.

"Tell me Draco. Do you know your parents?" The queen questioned as he sipped his mulled wine. With careful swallows he nodded cordially.

"I do, Your Majesty. My mother is Narcissa Black and my father was Lucius Malfoy."

"Are you certain, child?" She crooned. It sounded like the winter wind, blowing softly in the hills. "These names mean nothing to me but your magic calls to me. We _have_ been known to leave changelings in the past."

"I think…" Her skin was so creamy, so soft. It was like the very liquid from a star falling to earth. Its luminescence-. He coughed out of his reviliry. "Pardon me."

"Darling. You are scaring the poor mortal." The king chuckled from beside her. The queen simply smiled, falling back and letting her glamore fall.

"Unfortunately, I have met Draco's family. He is certainly their get." Hermione smiled herself taking a prim bite of potato.

He stabbed at a weird berry sauce and was unable to help himself. "That sounded like an insult."

"It is." The directness was enough to make him choke much to the amusement of the royal couple. And the pair of young elves right across from him which until now he had not noticed.

"My daughters. Elva and Elia." The two twins smiled in an alluring way. Well, it may have been alluring if they didn't look young enough to be his daughters. If witches he would have put them at eight maybe nine. As elves they probably were old enough to be his mother.

"Hello. It is lovely to meet such beautiful young princesses. The world is blessed by not one but two of you." He responded, figuring it was better to over compliment than under. He was rewarded with a tittering as the girls clung close together holding conjoined hands to hide behind.

"You must forgive them." The queen responded with a glance that bordered on amused. "They are young yet and have not learned the meritlessness of human words."

"They will in time." Hermione responded muffling her cry as he elbowed her.

As time moved on, they settled into a cordial sort of meal with undertones of humor. Draco couldn't help but compare it to being at one of his mother's dinners with her horrid friends and their somewhat amusing children. The adults would speak cruelly all night as the children took shots at word play and subtlety. Afterwards his mother would chastise or commend him depending on how obvious he was. His heart burned in his chest for the first time that night. An act that was apparently quite noticeable on his face.

"Young One." The queen stated as she and the family split their cake. "What troubles you on this night of rebirth?"

"Nothing of consequence." He responded shrugging the thoughts of his mother away.

"I would take whatever ails you. You just need say the word." Hermione made a small noise in her throat that the queen ignored. He considered her offer, it would be nice to never have to worry about his mother again. She was taken care of and it's not like she knew he visited. Elves were amazing with that sort of memory magic. They could take it all, every memory of pain, every fight, every mistake, every-

A hard pinch on his leg was enough to draw him out of it. He shot a dark look at Hermione as she smiled softly into her cream pudding.

"No thank you, Your Highness." She nodded back as the king laughed.

"Humans. So attached to the little time you have." They watched the dancers as they sprung through after dinner, delighting the children. In between songs Draco cast various colorful spells and told them stories of his life, their curious minds constantly questioning him.

"I don't understand. How can one submerge themselves in water? You have a river in your home?" Evla (he thought) questioned as he was regaling them with a memory of a Grecian bath.

"It is more of a pond really."

"It doesn't freeze through?" Elia tilted her head at the same time her twin did. While Fred and George were similar enough for their twinship to be annoying these two were just out right uncanny.

"No it's warm. It's heated water." They gasped and tittered amongst themselves. He turned to Hermione who simply mouthed "ice fairies" and looked at him like he was stupid.

"Do you bathe together?" One of them asked from behind their hands.

"Well humans used to. It used to be a whole social thing." He responded factually trying to dig up memories of the tour. He and the boys had had quite a bit of wine at that point so it was getting muddled.

"Nooooo." The other one remarked as their eyes sparkled. "Do you and Dear One bathe together?"

Hermione's eyes shot wide as the queen, remarkably like her daughters, covered her mouth delicately. The girls sensing the reaction pushed further.

"I think they would like that."

"I do too. It would be so warm."

"He would have to hold her close though, the ponds don't sound that big."

"I don't think they wear clothes. They would get wet. You don't wear clothes when you bathe with Dear One do you?" They smiled angelically at him and he had to resist the urge to scowl.

"I bathe alone and you would be correct we don't wear clothes." Hermione stated. The twins frowned at the lack of reaction from her and dropped below the table and wandered off without a word.

"You'll have to forgive them." The king responded warmly as his eyes followed the twins. "They are young yet and don't know the ways of others."

"Not that different from any other child." Draco mused to the air as they huddled together shooting glances his way. He felt like something distinctly unpleasant was in store. Fickle creatures.

"I think they might like you." The king offered. "I wish I could freeze you until they are old enough to keep you as a gift."

It was Hermione's turn to chuckle as he felt his cheeks flush.

"My King, we don't take humans anymore remember." The queen chided lightly, but did not disagree.

"I know, I know. But if he were to volunteer. It would only be for a few hundred years."

"I would politely decline your offer." Draco responded before they started planning what color of paper to wrap him in.

Sometime later the dancing began. Draco gave a go of it, turning to Hermione. He so generously offered his hand and was mildly offended at her raised eyebrow. Hermione took it nonetheless and let him guide her to the ice rink turned ballroom floor. She made a right mess of it stepping on his toes and tripping over herself. The fae demonstrated great amusement watching them and well after she had unintentionally produced a floor show he had multiple offers of partners. He wondered if compared to elves all humans were graceless and clumsy.

After the twins appeared and claimed Draco as their own he took turns spinning them around as they stood on his feet. He cast a variety of fire spells to flip around them at the safe distance, much to their delight. When they had finished a variety of fae women requested his skills, mostly to touch his skin and squeal at its warmth. He kept an eye on Hermione as the twins set upon her. Whatever they were talking about had her revolving between emotions of humor and offense.

When he finally joined her he was out of breath and looked more than a bit disheveled. His warm coat had been tossed aside and his skin steamed as it hit the frigid air.

"Having fun?" She asked smugly as a small group of males glanced over at them before muttering. He had seen multiple try to build up the courage to approach her but so far none had made it more than halfway across the floor. They probably feared for their toes.

"Surprisingly. Those girls are worse than the Weasley twins." Hermione's face twitched before returning to her placid expression. "I see where you get your delusions of grandeur when it comes to parties. It is wholly unlike anything I have ever seen."

He watched as the king and queen danced, an aurora jumping into the air above them. As if the sky itself was pleased by their performance. She didn't respond as they rested surrounded by more magic and beauty that many wizards would ever see in their entire lives.

"Thank you." He managed to make it actually sound genuine. It was, it was just not exactly natural for them, to have genuine words.

"Whatever for? The food was awful." Hermione questioned lightly as lights reflected in her eyes, a riot of color in the darkness.

"Bringing me here. You didn't have to do that."

"It was nothing." She waved dismissively.

"It was kind." He corrected. He placed a hand softly on her thigh, watching her eyes widen slightly in surprise. A light flush coated her cheeks, and he couldn't help but be pleased. "So thank you."

"W-well…. It's what any decent human would do." She responded back with what he was sure was supposed to be an air of indifference. He found it to be immensely charming befuddlement instead.

"I tried to attack you. You barely even yelled at me."

"I have spent my whole life dealing with men who screamed when they were angry." She huffed and Draco immediately regretted pushing her. "Yelling at them does nothing but make more noise. It's not healthy for anyone."

"I know. My father always told me I should be more reserved." He mused watching the shifting color of the auroras as the king swung the queen up into the air. The colors lept in joy and the wind swirled around them in a flurry. Compared to them, humans were wretched clumsy monkeys. "He may have been wrong about a lot of things, the bastard. But maybe not that one."

"Reserved isn't necessarily good." Hermione responded, also watching the couple with a light smile. "Look at them. They smile, they love. It's obvious to everyone who sees it. Maybe the reason you react so violently is because you never know how to show anything else."

His heart warmed as she watched the lights flash red in her eyes. The amber brown mixed with the flame, reminding him of the burn of fire whiskey and courage it imposed. He should tell her now, before he lost his nerve. Just for this moment, surrounded by magic so pure and natural he felt like he could tell her anything.

"Hermione. About Blaise-" Instinct alone told him to throw up his shields mere moments before Hermione's own came up. A small flash of pink shot into her mouth while its double hit his shield at a dead stop, dropping a small projectile into his lap.

"Granger, are you alright?" He questioned as his eyes located a twin flash of white and silver. A maniacal gleam flickered in their eyes before the girls bounded away. Hermione began to cough.

"Ugh fine, just something in my throat." As she gathered herself Draco felt around for the small vibrant red berry that was fired at him. He held it up as it glistened rainbow in the light, a fine coating of peralesent dust coating it. A pomegranate seed… coated in pearl dust. He swore as his brain caught up recognizing the two main ingredients of love potions.

"We're leaving. Now." He pulled her up roughly, grabbing his coat and dragging her toward the sled.

"Leaving but that would be so ru-" She cut herself off as she stared at him. Her offense melted away and her sharp eyes faded. A goofy grin twitched up at the corners of her mouth. "Okay."

He shuffled away trying to avoid anyone's notice. Unfortunately, using whatever magic she had before, the queen appeared directly in front of them looking deeply offended. It was only after she met Hermione's eyes that she glanced off to the left. Draco assumed she caught sigh of the twins from the resulting frown.

"Go quickly." She stated sweeping off past them. The air she left behind was almost enough to make Draco drop the witch next to him and drift off into the forest forever. With a violent shake of his head he spotted their exit.

He hauled Hermione into the sleigh, kicking it into gear before he was fully seated. He ensured it was set to return before sloughing off their coats. Hermione sighing as his hand brushed against her skin. Grabbing her arm he apparated to the shop. It had been further than he thought and the bolus of magic resulted in a blossoming headache. Thankfully the shop was dark as he marched the besotted girl ahead of him.

"You're pretty." He had no idea what to do with her other than push her through the mirror. There were antidotes to love potions but they were specialized to the different make ups. For something so simple to have worked the girls must have used their own ancient brand of magic. Bad, very bad. He stepped through the mirror himself and bumped into a swaying witch in a dark closet.

"Hi." She giggled when he growled and pushed past her, slamming open the door with a crack. She followed behind him slowly.

" _Accio_ love potion books." He tried hoping her library would provide. Unfortunately it was too general and a stack of 87 books flew at him.

"You're so good at magic." Hermione sighed lacing her arms around his waist.

"No. Salazar's spawn! _Accio_ love potion cure books." Less but he still didn't have time to look through 26 books. Growling he pulled her towards the floo, he knew where it was in his library.

As they stepped into his office Hermione trailed behind him giggling as she did so. She was staring deeply at their held hands and he threw hers away in disgust. Calling the book down he flipped to the first page in the section.

_History of Love Potions._

_While Laverne de Montomorcy is known for the creation of amortentia, love potions have existed since long before that. It is thought that the first love potions came to us from the Fae. These potions were given to wayward witches and wizards in order to keep them permanently entranced during their stay. Prolonged exposure seemed to do no harm as when the wizards were returned they reverted to their normal selves in a matter of hours._

He groaned. He was hoping for an antidote not the advice to sleep it off. Hermione watched him lazily from across his desk. At least it was less aggressive than the more refined potions. He assumed it had something to do with the innocence of the magic cast by the bedamned twins.

"Okay you stay here. I am going to go to the other room." Hermione nodded following him to the door. "No. You stay. Here. In this room."

She nodded again as he gently shut the door in her face. He clamped it with the heaviest locking charms he knew as he heard her try the knob. Breathing out a deep sigh of relief he wandered over to the couch and collapsed. It appeared that Pinky had cleaned up the living room while he was gone. It was hard to believe he had wreaked it just this morning. It had been a long day. And absolutely magical one, even considering that he could have died. At least he would get to tease Hermione about this tomorrow.

He closed his eyes unsure if he could make it down the hall to his bed anyway. He yelped as a heavy pressure settled on his chest along with a warm tingle and the scent of cinnamon. His eyes opened to a thick of curls brushing against his nose. He glanced to the door of his study, just to see it opened wide. Stupid brightest witch of her age bullshite.

"Granger. Get off of me." He commanded hoping she was love-struck enough to listen. His general pushing was mirrored by his own chest lifting slightly. A sticking charm then.

"Hmmmm cozy." She nuzzled deeper into his chest. Trying to finagle his way to his pocket for his wand was hopeless. It was laying on the coffee table just out of reach and he didn't think she'd exactly be amenable to moving. He groaned.

"Sleepy." Came the muttered reply.

"No." He balked. "Absolutely not. You are not sleeping here and you are not sleeping on me. Off leech."

He pushed more violently only to be lifted and subsequently slammed back into the couch under both of their weights.

"So strong." The witch who had stuck herself to his chest purred.

"Yes yes. I am strong. And once you sober up you are going to see how strong my gut-slam jinx is. Pinky!" He cried summoning the elf with a crack. If she had any judgements she kept them to herself.

"Master."

"Unstick us." He stated spitting out a stray hair that had floated into his mouth. Pinky grimaced. "What is it?"

"Pinky cannot unstick master." She squeeked.

"What?!" He all but roared as both girls cried out at the force. The larger one for the sake of her ears the smaller one with a cringe.

"It's not Pinky's fault sir. It's the magic!"

"What's wrong with the bloody magic?" He hissed as Hermione shuffled a bit too close to his throat for comfort, toying with the hairs at the back of his neck.

"It's the magic of the Old Ones. Pinky cannot interfere with the Old Ones." She looked like she was expecting him to kick her. And as he was currently he wanted to. He would have to dwell on the information later.

"Fine. Give me my wand." He was not looking forward to trying to overpower Hermione's magic. She was a remarkably talented witch and with how fast she had disassembled his locking charms this was going to take more energy than he had.

"Pinky is sorry master." She stepped back. "Pinky cannot interfere at all. Pinky is so sorry!"

With a wail she was gone, clearly running from his reaction. His rage at the situation boiled. He attempted a wandless _finite_ , failing miserably.

"Your magic is so strong. Stronger than Ron's or Harry's." She nodded her head contentedly before burying her face in his neck. Her small breaths puffed against his skin. He paused, unable to stop himself from preening.

"Well of course I am. Those idiots can barely keep themselves standing."

"I like strong. We'll sleep here." As she settled down her body melted over his. He tried his best to shift around hoping she would get uncomfortable and give up. Before long her breathing slowed to a crawl and he knew she was asleep.

"Oh this went to hell with a Hufflepuff really fast." He sighed trying unsuccessfully to rouse her. He assessed his options. Continue to struggle and fail. Plead or threaten Pinky again and fail. Try to stand against her weight and fall forward and fail in a much more compromising position. Or to just settle and let whatever magic was on her run its course, it's not like there was anyone around to see it. Blaise and Theo knew better than to visit on a Sunday night.

Seeing that the last option was really the end results of all of the previous ones he sighed, shuffling under the snoozing witch as he adjusted himself. He would wake up when his wand went off for work and would skip the morning shower so he could properly taunt Hermione. Yes, it was an acceptable plan.

Slinging his arm from under her waist to rest on her back he finally found a serviceable position. It was actually quite comfortable and her hair, while annoying drifting across his face, still smelled of the snow and mountains.

"Night Granger. You'll be getting an earful come morning." He let the exhaustion overtake him as he slipped into a dreamless sleep. When Pinky popped in to check on them later, there was an almost pleasant smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> House Elf Origins  
> Once upon a time, a Fae prince saw a mortal witch picking berries in the woods. He desired her and approached her as a human hoping to steal her away. Over time they fell in love in spite of their differences. After much deliberation he revealed himself to her, knowing it may drive her away. She simply told him she would love him anyway, for as long as they would live. Happily they stole away to live in his palace, avoiding the danger of the mortal realm. After a time she grew lonely for her friends and family. Much against the wishes of his own parents the prince and witch disappeared to live as humans. Unfortunately, the brothers of the witch had discovered what had befallen her. Fearing the legendary love potions of the fae they set upon the prince, killing him in hopes it would break the spell. As he lay dying he cursed the family line to years of misery and servitude for stealing him away from his love. What he did not know was the the witch was pregnant, continuing the line with him cursing his own children to populate the earth as servants to the very people he so despised.


	30. A Butterfly Effect

When Draco woke it was late. The sun had already begun to filter through the window on his balcony and was shining rudely into his eyes. A blurry mess of hair was exactly where it had been stuck the previous night however a gentle shift of his shoulder indicated the charm had worn off. Hermione was beginning to stir while he planned the most uncomfortable way to wake her up. A devious smile grew on his face at the idea of unceremoniously rolling her off him and onto the floor with a loud yawn.

"I think I am going to be sick if you don't wipe that smirk off your face." The disembodied voice ruined all complex plots as he bolted upright flinging the poor girl onto the opposite side of the couch as her eyes flew open.

"Aw, I thought it was cute." Theo supplied from the kitchen as he rooted around the icebox. Draco turned his attention back to an apocalyptic wizard blocking the floo, and thus any chance of escape. The air around Blaise practically crackled with fury, witch didn't go unnoticed judging from the light quivering next to him on the couch. He risked a glance at Hermione who looked to be trying to make herself as small as possible. Her skin had blanched white and her face was hidden in her hands.

"Don't be a coward, Granger. It's a bit late to pretend you're some faceless one night stand." Blaise growled roughly. Draco flinched at the bite of the statement and sighed. In spite of the target of his statement, Blaise's attention remained firmly on Draco, waiting for an explanation.

"Would you believe me if I told you it wasn't what it looked like?" He offered casually as his mind twisting over itself looking for a plausible explanation. He pulled his arms above his head in a tall stretch, pulling the knotted muscles in his back. All the cushioning charms in the world couldn't make sleeping upright anyone's definition of comfort.

"I generally like to hear the circumstances before making half-cocked assumptions." Blaise scoffed, staring at Hermione who had settled herself into a contrite position, looking very much like an admonished school girl. While Draco found it almost cute, Blaise looked like he wanted to set her on fire. "However, this is fairly damning."

"It really-" Draco started with a shrug, not exactly sure how he was going to end the statement.

"Are you brainless! What in Merlin's name were you thinking, messing around with her? She's supposed to be gone. Dead. Missing. Do you have any idea how bad this looks?"

"I don't think she's dead." Theo responded making his way into the living room with a plate of toast. To Draco's surprise he offered one to Granger and she took it, nibbling at the butter coated crust.

"Thank you for that very helpful addition Theo. And for feeding the enemy." Blaise growled at the other boy who looked nonplussed munching on his toast. "If you would like to fill the rest of us in on the situation you have so cleverly unraveled since Draco isn't..."

Theo looked back and forth between Hermione and Draco blankly, his eyes calmly but thoroughly taking in the scene. By the time he swallowed dramatically, Draco felt mildly violated and Hermione looked no better off. Nosy bastard.

"They've been in contact for a while. I'd wager she's the one who took his vow since we haven't heard about it." Draco sighed dreaming of all the ways this morning should have gone. Blaise merely growled turning away from the younger wizard and redirecting his ire back to Draco and Hermione.

"What are they even doing here?" She questioned. Hermione's toast seemed to have given her some amount of energy and she wasn't swooning over him so at least that was an improvement. Not that Blaise would see it that way.

"Us?" Blaise spat with enough venom causing her to flinch. "What are you doing here? What is Hermione bloody Granger, who no one has seen in ages, doing at the Death Eater's house snuggling on the couch like a pair of horny teenagers."

Draco flinched. He knew the barb had been directed at Hermione but it was clearly meant to hurt him. Blaise knew the weak spot, it was so Slytherin of him to use it to his advantage. Draco was about to answer when Hermione spoke.

"I was incapacitated from a spell after a trip. Draco brought me back here to fix me up." Hermione responded rather calmly as she daintily grabbed a scone from Theo's offered platter.

"Which by the way, you should break that habit." Draco sneered. If her library wasn't such a dreadful mess he would have been able to treat her there and they could have avoided this whole thing.

"She's been here before?" Blaise questioned as everyone in the room looked at the volatile wizard blankly. He growled looking less than thrilled to be the last one on the boat. He turned his ire back to the witch. "We are here because Draco didn't show up for work. After the state he left this apartment in yesterday we needed to check for a body. We didn't think it would be yours we found."

"Can we discuss this later?" Draco questioned holding his head in his hand. His two lives were starting to bleed into each other, something he had worked so hard to avoid at the beginning. As small part of him felt pity that Hermione had gotten caught up in this lecture, Blaise tended to go for the throat when he was angry. While it wasn't anything he thought she couldn't handle, the whole reason they were there was really his fault. If he had just controlled his temper they would both be starting their respective days peacefully away from each other.

"No. We will discuss this now." Blaise stomped up to him, rage rolling off him in waves. "What in the actual fuck do you think you are doing shagging Hermione Granger? More importantly what do you think you are doing even talking to the filthy mudblood slag? Do you want Potter to have a reason to hang you? A reason for me to hang you?"

"There's no premise." He responded tritely.

"He will make one. For fucks sake Draco! If this gets out it looks like you have been harboring information from a ministry investigation. It looks like you imperiused her into playing house pet."

"Obviously that's not true."

"That's not how the papers will see it. After all that work we did to move on and you had to go and muck it up over some tart." He sneered in Hermione's general direction. "She's not even pretty. What else are they to assume? What possible reason could she ever have to associate with the likes of you?"

Draco tried not to show that the lash hit instead choosing to slowly and purposefully glance at Blaise's arm. Hermione cocked her head to the side as she followed the motion, eyes dawning in understanding. Her mouth formed a small little 'o' shape.

"Don't try to blame me for this." Blaise responded, gripping his arm close to his body. "This is your idiotic doing."

"Well…" Draco spoke surprised not to be immediately interrupted. He glanced around looking for any way to take the ire off him. His eyes landed on Hermione who was sitting properly on the couch watching the tongue lashing blankly. "Aren't you going to say anything. He called you a mudblood. I get a wand to the throat and he gets hands folded in a lap. How is that fair?"

"She's fucking filth but her pathetic choices are not my problem." Blaise hissed trying to pull the conversation back. When Hermione spoke her voice was quiet and measured.

"I am not upset because it is not me he is angry with."

"Of course not, he doesn't know you. Why would he care about damage to your image?" Draco scoffed, crossing his arms.

"He's not mad about that either." Theo supplied from next to her. He had that look on his face that indicated he thought Draco was dreadfully dense. Silence hung in the room for a few moments, the lack of sound filling the room as everyone stared at Blaise.

"He is upset you didn't tell him." Hermione finished with a disgusting sympathetic tone in her voice. He almost laughed at the audacity of it. He was more than prepared to start in on a rant about how preposterous it was when Blaise flinched. Draco drew his attention back in on the other boy who had pulled back front he assault, drawing his arms to his chest and forcing his face into a blank surface.

"Oh."

"Uh, Miss Granger?" Theo suggested lightly.

"Hermione is fine."

"Right then. May I suggest we head to the kitchen and throw up a silencing charm? I don't think this is going to end pleasantly for our eardrums." Hermione nodded and followed Theo to the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder before a thick black wall was thrown up behind them. He had to force his attention from where she disappeared to the suddenly much more uncomfortable situation in front of him.

"Blaise-" Draco started, unsure of what to say. Blaise was the calculating one. He understood the risk to certain actions and how to best maneuver through them. He was not the emotional one. Everything with Blaise had always been so easy. Blaise followed a clear logic that resulted in expected outcomes not rooted in 'feelings'. He hadn't even considered that hiding it from him him would upset the usually callous man.

"I am NOT mad about that." Blaise shouted immediately proving Theo correct. His temper at a rolling boil, hissing and spitting at anything in range. "That would be a sentimental and idiotic thing to be this pissed about."

"And yet you are." Draco finished trying to keep his voice even and his own reactions in check. When they had all turned into Hufflepuffs? He blamed Theo, Granger may have something to do with it as well. Terrible influences really.

"No." Blaise spat in a way that made Draco nervous his own wand wasn't out. "I just... How long?"

"A couple months." Draco responded honestly. He barely noticed that his wrist was burning.

"Months?!"

"Since India." Blaise swore angrily, dragging his hand over his face with a wince. He stared at his arm in realization before letting it fall to his side limply.

"The fucking cure-all."

"She needed someone to fly into a thunderstorm so she could catch a lightning bolt." He offered by way of explanation.

"A thunderstorm. Of fucking course. All this time. You have been lying to us. Disappearing. Coming back torn up with mysterious excuses. I know you've taken an Unbreakable Vow but you didn't even try to tell us. We could have helped you find a way out." Blaise growled as he paced in front of the floo like a trapped beast.

"You think Hermione Granger is going to enter into an unbreakable vow that three idiotic Slytherins could squirm their way out of?" Draco question impudently. He knew it was baiting the man but he didn't fucking deserve this. And neither did Granger for that matter. Draco was not one to coddle and Blaise knew that. He had done what he needed to and the consequences were his own. It was none of Blaise's damn business.

"We could have tried. There are other ways." Blaise responded hotly. "The cure-all didn't even work and now you're trapped."

"What other ways? Did you want to put a hit-wizard on her? Slip some arsenic in her tea? We aren't those kind of people Blaise. I knew the risk and I took it, for you. She even helped me figure out why the Cure-All didn't work. She had given me other avenues to try without question. If anything, she is more useful in this whole endeavor than I am. What makes her deserve to die for my stupid mistake?"

"I'm not saying that!" Blaise shouted back. "Christ I'm not a monster! I am just saying-"

"That you were hurt I didn't tell you." Draco finished coldly. Blaise scowled and clenched his fist. In a move he felt as totally out of character Draco sighed lightly, forcing the anger from his body. He ran his hand through his hair, releasing the smell of pine and winter as it fell back into his face. It felt like last night was ages away at this point, just one small slip that created an avalanche catching all of his friends in its path. "For what it's worth I am sorry. I've felt rotten about it. I never wanted you all to find out like this."

Blaise stared at him for a measure, taking in his open posture. Draco had made a point not to so much as twitch for his wand, still sitting on the coffee table. He was defenseless, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the armed wizard in front of him. After a moment Blaise sighed too, sliding his wand up his sleeve before adjusting his suit.

"...You are spending too much time with that bitch Gryffindor. You are getting all noble on me." He hissed before and grabbed his arm stretching out his fingers. The excess movements of the argument had irritated it, making the muscles raw and sore. Thankfully Hermione had provided him with the flavorless recipe for her pain potion and he had just finished brewing it yesterday. It would make a fine peace offering.

"You need more pain potion. I'll grab some and then we'll head into the kitchen." Draco stated plainly as he headed off into his study. Throwing a blank look at the wall.

"I still don't like it and I am still pissed at you." Blaise growled, pretending not to notice the sidelong glance. He fell into a cautious but familiar step beside Draco, an odd but not unwelcome comfort in the uncertain situation.

"I would say that's fair." He offered lightly, trying to get back to more steady ground.

"See there. You sound down right reasonable. Normally you would be throwing grade-A tantrum."

"I'm not that bad am I?" Draco questioned with an eyebrow raised.

"Don't worry." Blaise said with half an exasperated smile. "We love you anyway."

00000000000000000000000000

"So…." Theodor Nott was standing across a table from her after just throwing up the privacy wall. She fingered the back of the chair in front of her, not really sure how to respond. It had been a good while since she had actually met anyone from her old life. Let alone a pureblood with a house predilection for casting curses at muggleborns.

"So." She responded back. He sighed and pulled out the chair on his side settling into it. Following his example she settled in her spot and they just stared at each other for a good minute.

"I need a drink." With the practice of years he conjured forth a thick crystal glass and a small barrel of firewhiskey.

"It's…" She cast a quick tempus charm. "Eight in the morning. Don't you have work?"

"I don't think you want to pass any harsh judgments on the only thing separating you from the shitefest going on in the living room." Theodore responded with a shrug.

"I wasn't." She lied . Figuring she had nothing to lose she swiped his drink. After all, she didn't have to go into work. "I just wanted to be sure you filled mine."

If he was shocked he made no indication of it. Just a small smile as he called forth another glass for him. "So…"

"This again. What an intellectual conversation." Hermione responded, swirling her glass. She has had firewhiskey before of course. The amber liquid sparkled with a flicker of flame to indicate its age. It was going to burn quite heavily.

"Would you prefer to talk about why you have been in hiding the last five years?" Theo questioned shooting back his drink and pouring another. He seemed utterly unconcerned with the tendrils of smoke leaking out of his mouth.

"Would you prefer to talk about your time turners?" She took a sip feeling the burn slip down her throat, stoking her courage. She wondered which came first, the muggle drink or this.

"Fair point. Well I can assume you are a decently skilled potioneer considering how wrapped up you are with Draco." He began to sip his second drink, shoulders releasing their tension in response.

"Mastery. They gave me a certificate and everything. It's serving as a coaster on my coffee table. You?"

"No. I am worthless when it comes to making something new. I can fix broken potions or adjust them to fit as needed. But throw me in without a baseline and I am hopeless. What did you make?"

"Elixir of lucidity." She responded as he arched his eyebrows in surprise. "You know it?"

"Yes. Draco gave me the recipe to play around with. I hope you don't mind." Something about his tone indicated he didn't really care one way or another if she did mind. "I am starting to wonder if any of our recent windfalls had been just luck."

"Best someone uses it. Lord knows it didn't do me any good." He nodded thoughtfully and gazed out the window. The clouds rolling in threatened snow. It would of course melt before it hit the streets coming down as dirty rain. She supposed when you had the money for a penthouse one of the amenities was being able to actually see snow in the winter.

"I should thank you for the sphinx." Theo remarked to the silence. "Even if you did almost kill me."

"Are they not behaving? I can talk to the queen-" She stopped as he held up his hand, an easy smile drifting to his face.

"No, they are as amenable as a man eating creature can be. The near lethal experience was when I added the usual amount of hair to a stitch-fix potion. The rip was fixed but the fabric multiplied enough to nearly smother me."

"I had mentioned its efficiency to Draco. He's quite hopeless isn't he." She sighed as she shook her head.

"I suppose he is. Well would you like to talk about anything in particular?"

"I'd actually like to ask about your supposed greenhouse." She was rewarded when his eyes sparkled and he refilled her glass.

"Ask away."

When Draco entered the room Theo and her had fallen silent from their discussion on newt liver. Blaise followed throwing back a blue vial that looked to be filled with some sort of pain potion. The two joined them at the table, glasses appearing in front of them full of deep amber liquid.

"Alright then." Theo stated to the tense air. "Who's up for a round of curling?"

Hermione smiled deviously in spite of herself. She was remarkably good at bar curling. When she was still in Britain she had a favorite muggle bar she used to sneak off to when avoiding things. The regulars balked at such a young girl wanting to learn the game but she won them over eventually. Without missing a beat she gently slid her drink across the table towards Theo. It came to a perfect stop just over the edge of the table by a few centimetres. She was rusty but it was still an excellent opening move. Theo's shocked face smoothed into a steady smirk.

"Not bad Granger. I was going to go easy on you but I don't think it's your first time." With a push of his own crystalware the drink came to rest so precariously over the edge she was certain it would spill into her lap, but no.

"Shite." With a grimace she tossed back his drink, refilling it from the barrel. Instead she focused her attention on Draco.

Approximately 30 minutes later they were all far too drunk for a weekday morning. Draco looked ridiculously tired and Blaise had finally relaxed into a state of prowling indifference. Only Theo appeared unchanged. Draco had snapped the glass off of the table mid pass.

"You have already ruined my favorite set of tea cups. If you break my bar set there will be hell to pay."

"You could take your tea cup back anytime." She muttered weakly.

"Why would I when you so charmingly wash it for me every time? Like a good little house witch." He chuffed.

"As charming as your domestic squabbles are I think we can focus on the explanation part of the night." Blaise responded swirling his drink.

"I thought Draco told you."Hermione glanced at Draco who was still palming the crystal glass. Thin red lines snaked up the back of his hand. She quickly dug in her bag while muttering. "Moronic man."

As if it was second nature she pulled out the healing potion tossing it to the blonde. He caught it and slung it back without so much as a sniff. It was a process they were certainly used to at this point but it certainly rose eyebrows from the other two. She didn't know if she should be offended or flattered that they thought she was capable of poison.

"So…" Blaise began.

"Christ. Can't any of you start a sentence with something else?" Hermione rolled her eyes as she manipulated the trail smoke coming out of her mouth into a spiral.

"Well I don't see you starting a conversation about this?" Blaise responded hotly, ignoring Theo's chuckle. "I don't exactly know how I should be speaking to you anyway."

"Well you've reached the pinnacle of propriety earlier when you called her a mudblood slag. At this point anything you say will be a disappointment so you might as well get it over with." Draco responded as he shook out his hand. The red lines were fading but not disappearing. He had waited too long; she hoped it didn't scar.

"Maybe that was slightly uncalled for." Blaise acquiesced before he hardened. "Only slightly. I wasn't aware you were a thing."

"We aren't." Hermione corrected quickly.

"Some details would be nice then." Blaise growled. "Since the blond betrayer over here can't tell us anything without spending the rest of his life in a series of lonely nights with no outlet."

"That seemed rude." Hermione responded lightly when Draco's eyes darkened.

"Yeah well I am pissed and think I have every right to be."

"Okay. Well I guess I will start from the beginning." As so she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Firewhiskey:  
> A whiskey like concoction I am sure most of you are familiar with. However, if you were unaware, canonically it is said to stoke courage in the drinker. I have added a nice smoke effect just for fun.
> 
> Stitch fix potion:  
> Got a rip in an item of magical clothing? Pour on some stitch fix! It will duplicate the original fabric to perfection filling in the gap with precision without effecting any enchantment on it!


	31. A Slip of the Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing CONCEPT ART:
> 
> Warning: I am bad at it. Anything I manage to produce will likely pale in comparison to whatever you can picture with your own mind. However, I present it nonetheless. 
> 
> Related works this chapter: Rowana's cell: Blueprint's of Hermione Granger's workshop.
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/omnenomnom

“I think we can drop the pretense then?” Hermione questioned as they arrived back at her loft. The room cheered as he stepped onto the rug, brightening and welcoming him back. He may actually miss it.

“But it was  _ so _ fun knowing something you didn’t.” Draco responded, moving to lounge on his couch. The ugly thing had really grown on him and he wondered if Granger would be willing to part with it. Transfigured furniture never really captured the same feel of the original.

“Please, you weren’t exactly subversive. I knew it had something to do with bones.” He rolled his eyes and settled in. It was likely to be a long day.

“You had no clue. I doubt you will even be able to actually do anything useful.”

“Why won’t you just let me help? Too desperate for my weekly attention?” Hermione smiled as she leaned on her work table. He wondered if she knew how much that smile looked like a smirk.

“I am the best thing that has ever happened to you.” Draco shot back tucking his arms behind his head as he didn’t have a care in the world. “If I had told you earlier you would have kept me here for a year as your errand boy and maybe by the grace of your Gryffindor sense of fairness given me the cure before kicking me to the curb.”

“You are so dramatic.” She responded with a huff. “I gave you what I thought would cover it on your second day here. I hardly expected you back, let alone would try to force you to stay. Hell, if you would have just told me we could have gotten you out of here faster.”

He told himself very firmly that he wasn’t hurt by that and continued to stare at her ceiling. There were 12 vertical beams, 24 horizontal beams, 4 joists, and one bats’ nest that Crookshanks fervently tried to reach on a daily basis.

“Go on then.” She prodded with a small sipping noise. 

“It’s his arm obviously.” Draco found himself starting. “The healers don’t know what’s wrong with it. It was broken during the Battle of Hogwarts by a nasty blasting curse and didn’t heal right. Now he’s in constant pain as his muscles pull on it. It breaks under the slightest pressure.”

“You vanished and regrew the bone?” It was the first thing the healers had tried.

“It grew back the same way. They looked for some kind of curse as a cause but found nothing.”

“And none of the potions you’ve found rifling through my library have worked?”

“No.”

“You mentioned brittlebones treatment?”

“Helped manage the pressure part of the pain but worse than a standard pain potion.”

“What was the closest you got?”

“Your skele-gro. I remade it and he was able to use his arm without breaking it but the pain increased to unmanageable levels.”

He heard a quill scratch away in the silence. It would be just like her to take notes. It had been such a long two days. He had failed as a friend and son. Hell he’d even admitted to failing as a student. He knew by that second month she would have given him the cure if she knew. She was a good person like that. He wasn’t.

“Well…” He glanced over at the witch. Her untamed roan hair framed her face. Her eyes had taken on a glimmer of curiosity and sparkled as the flames reflected in them. The quill she had been chewing on left a thick black smudge on the side of her face. She looked feral, improper, wild. It was such a nice change of pace from the strict confines of his life.

“I honestly can’t think of a single reason none of those solutions wouldn’t have worked.” He tried to keep the crushing disappointment from sneaking on his face. Conflicting emotions settled poorly with him with anger usually being the end result. He figured he owed it to her to stamp out that urge.

“I figured you were going to do the thing?” He breathed, settling on melancholy instead.

“What thing?” She responded tilting her head. The quill feather bounced in response, catching one of the impossible to source drafts that blew through the workshop no matter how many charms he put up.

“That thing you did in school. Where you would just blink your eyes and wave your wand and everything would be okay. Evilness would be defeated and Gryffindor would win the house cup.”

“Like magic?” She questioned with a sad smile continuing to stare at the paper without writing.

“Exactly like magic.” He responded quietly. “Come on, Granger. You know everything. After all you are the brightest witch of our age and kept those two idiots alive for seven years.”

“It doesn’t work that way. It’s never worked that way.” She responded. “The only reason any of us are here at all is just good old fashioned dumb luck. Nothing I did.”

“And there’s none of that luck left for the three Sytherin boys who all made the mistake to trust the wrong person?”

“I didn’t say that-”

“Can it Granger. We knew it was bound to happen. When we started this pathetic little family we had guessed it was a lost cause. But what else were we going to do? Theo's dad was dead. Blaise’s mother is about as maternal as a pit viper. My parents were a shit show….” He trailed off.

“Were you there?”

“Where?”

“When the injury happened.” She clarified.

“Timeturners won’t work.” He shuddered at the return to the idea.

“I know. I just… if you were there you’ll have the memory…” She faded off, clearly debating something in her head. With a nod she came to a solid decision. “I’m willing to bet there is something you aren’t telling me. Something important.”

“I’ve told you everything.”He huffed, almost offended he was withholding vital information.

“Everything you remember. Memory is a funny thing though. It tends to drop off the unimportant details, even if they are important.”

“A pensive won’t work. I didn’t draw the memory when it was fresh.” When he tried to draw up the memory last year he was greeted with a bowl of fuzz. Only the most basic of details present and half remembered.

“I wasn’t thinking of a penesive.” She glanced meaningfully at him. When he realized what she was suggesting he was resigned to find he wasn’t the least bit horrified.

“You want access to my memories.” He stated simply. “You want to do the dragon thing.”

“It could help. I don’t see why-”

“It was during the Battle of Hogwarts.” He finished quickly watching her grimace. “I don’t think you really want to relive that; I don’t either.”

“I didn’t realize any Slytherin’s stuck around.” 

“Most didn’t.” He smirked. “He was in a broom closet at the time of evacuation with a Ravenclaw.”

“Cad.” She chuckled.

“He fought with you all anyway. I saw him in the first part when we were looking for you three.” He still could picture the rage in Blaise's eyes as he met them in the corridor, stepping aside. As Crabbe blew past him Blaise just watched them leave, his demeanor heavy with judgment. “Can’t believe no one noticed.”

“We didn’t actually do reports until the end… which means he was gone by then.”

“Right. He had been running around with the young Creevy boy, trying to keep him alive. Christ what was that kid even doing there... Grayback found them. By the time he was able to chase off the werewolf…”

“So he was injured?” She quickly brushed over the reminder saving him the discomfort.

“He was tired but fine. He made himself scarce until the second wave. At which point he found me.”

“And that’s where your memory starts.”

“Yeah.” The cauldron was empty and thus the rare silence in her workshop was absolute. It was surprisingly cold, not a feeling he associated with Hermione’s home. 

“I really need that memory, Draco. I know it will be painful, but if I can see the curse there may be another way…”

He thought for a minute trying to focus on how awful it would feel to relive that memory. To be stuck in that moment of time unable to do a damn thing to stop it. But he would do it, just like he always did. He was forever chasing after redemption he didn’t deserve.

“Go ahead.” He whispered. It was quiet enough she didn’t even jump. She simply rose, gliding over to him on soft feet. As she settled in front of him pulling out her wand he met her eyes. 

“Just don’t….” He wanted to ask her not to think less of him for it. To scream at him and rage in that familiar fashion that made the room flush with cinnamon and sparks but still be friends at the end. Then again, he didn’t really deserve to be asking anyone anything. “Nevermind.”

She nodded and closed her eyes to focus her magic. He quickly tore down the near permanent barriers he had the habit of keeping up. They fell into nothingness as he waited for the usual slime of someone entering his head space. He felt her warmth seep into him so comfortingly it made his heart ache. It felt like home, like acceptance. Like forgiveness. He hated it.

Not a moment later he was back on that cold stone floor in the castle of his youth. He was on his knees pleading to Theo’s father. He could feel the sharp rock of a blasted away paving stone digging into his palm. His other hand was drifting towards his wand, ready to make a last stand that he would inevitably fail.

“I am on your side. Honest!” He made the dive for his wand just as a curse flew over his shoulder, dropping the Death Eater he had grown up under. He stared in confusion at the empty air behind him. Suddenly a thick pain blossomed in his gut as his breath left his body.

He glanced around trying to see who had hit him. Just as he was regaining his ability to breathe footsteps sounded ahead of him. Faceless masks appeared processing the scene before them Draco saw the exact moment they decided he needed to die.

The following few minutes were pathetic. He was a child, weak. He was diving through columns screaming. Vague approximations of shields went up before being crashed through with green and red bolts. He knew he was going to die. He felt in his very bones.

He had fallen. Just an ordinary fall over the same risen flagstone he had tripped over twice a week every year on his way to herbology. It was somehow fitting. He stared at the dark robes as the wand focused on him from across the courtyard. He was out of magic and didn’t have time to move. He felt the blood drain from his face. He knew it was the end.

The current Draco knew it was coming but he was still surprised when a dark shape jumped from a nearby window, landing with a cushioned thump. Blaise threw off a devastating  _ Depulso  _ charm from his rosewood wand just before the blasting curse hit his right arm. Blaise dropped as the pursuing Death Eaters were sucked into a spinning vortex of nothingness.

For a moment all Draco could see was blood. Blaise’s left hand pressed to the stump of mangled tissue and bone as the warm ruby liquid spilled on the cobblestones. He was barely conscious, taking deep labored breaths. 

“You weren’t worth it Malfoy.”

“Why did you do it? You should have let me die.” His own voice cracked painfully. They were words he asked himself to this very day. “Why?’

“There is a villain in everyone's story. I didn’t want to be one in mine.” The boy's dark skin had faded to an ashy gray, he was going to die. There was no way around it, Draco had to do something. His hand shook as he held up his wand, glowing the faint blue of a healing spell.

Draco forced his current consciousness to the top, unable to stand the hope on his own face as bone and skin knit itself together smoothing into a perfectly smooth surface. Not perfect but it was good enough. Or at least he thought so at the time. 

“Don’t move.” Activating his emergency portkey he slid his family ring onto Blaise's good hand. The ring gathered up magic from the surrounding area, swirling around them. It could only take one of them. Blaise's eyes rose in understanding, he looked ready to argue before he twisted away into nothingness leaving Draco in an empty courtyard. 

The memory faded with a thick veil of smoke as he felt himself pull back to reality. His body shook in deep stuttering breaths as if he had physically relived every moment of the cursed fate. Even his magic had all but left him, achingly cold and empty. He kept his eyes closed, unwilling to meet hers. To see the disgust at the years of pain he had caused the only person who actually stood up for what was right and still saw him as worthy of saving.

“It was us.” She whispered above him. He risked a glance, figuring he deserved it anyway. He stilled as he was met with honey brown eyes rimmed with molten glass. “The people who stunned the Death Eater. The ones who hit you and left you there. It was our fault.”

“No.” He said sadly. The first few months he had tried to blame what he thought had been a wild curse. It would have been so easy to blame some faceless wizard who didn’t carefully deflect a shot. But no, he knew that wasn’t true either. It was always Potter. Potter and his band of nitwits. They saved him only to condemn the only good Slytherin in their year. His voice was thick with guilt when he responded. “If the first hex didn’t take out Nott, I would have died anyway.”

“That was Theo?” She questioned, pulling back in horror. He could see her brain trying to mesh the friendly boy with the dark curse slinging monster.

“No, his father. He was old and injured. The curse was enough to finish him off.” He cut off the response with a shake wave of his hand. “Don’t apologize. Theo and his father were never… close. Theo took after his mother, not something Nott Senior approved of.”

“None of that was your fault, Draco. Without you to heal him Blaise would have... You saved him.”

“He gave up his wand hand to save a snivelling prat who was in over his head without a kind word to say to anything or anyone. The world nearly lost a great wizard that night and it wasn’t me.” They sat in silence for what felt like forever. Draco’s body was absolutely numb by this point, stuck somewhere between the past and present.

“How good are you at healing spells?” Hermione asked as she retreated back to her side of the couch. Draco considered it a win he hadn’t been forcibly ejected.

“Currently? Halfway to passable. Back then… I am surprised he survived.”

“Didn’t the healers fix it after the battle?” She questioned.

“No.” He responded cursing his younger self. “He was at Malfoy manor when the raids hit trying to mop up the escaped Death Eaters. I had come back to let them in the wards and barely got him out to a spare property before we all went on trial. He had no magic while his hand was healing. The house elves kept him as well as they could but he couldn’t pass over the wards without one of us. When I finally got him into Saint Mungo’s a month later there was nothing they could do. They said it had already healed and to let it grow. But… it never got better.”

She was staring at him blankly, her eyes empty of anything but information intake. She felt almost like a talking statute. Close to human, but not quite right.

“Did you do anything to the bone? When you healed it. I didn’t feel anything.”

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “I had just used a general charm I had run across in a book once. It was supposed to be for deep flesh wounds. I hadn’t used it before.”

“Did you ever get x-rays?” Hermione questioned as she moved over to her desk and began to furiously scrubble notes.

“The bone photography muggles do?” Draco questioned standing up himself. 

“I am surprised you know what that is.” She raised an eyebrow but didn’t pause her writing.

“We’ve been desperate. Blaise spent a month with a cast on last summer.”

“Cast only help broken bones stay immobile. They don’t actually heal.” She muttered. “The bone would have been healed by then, likely in a very messy way. Probably with poor alignment and shards drifting in the skin.”

“I couldn't tell you. We went to a muggle surgery but after hours of waiting when he was explaining to the healer that it was an old injury that still hurt we were all but thrown out of there and called some choice names.” He suggested quietly as her quill came to a dead stop. A smile blooming on her face like summer rain. 

“You have it don’t you.” The hope ached in his voice but he couldn’t stomach pushing it down.

“I think I might.”

000000000000000

Three hours later she was still pouring over her books like a mad woman. This is what she lived for. This is what felt normal. She stirred and mulled the sunflower petals in the cauldron with the powdered dragon scales. The sharp grit crushing the delicate petals in a splash of sunny pigment.

“I don’t understand. It hadn’t worked before.” Draco commented from beside her where he prepped the skele-gro base. It had always been the answer, just only part of it.

“You missed a key part of the process. We’ll need to vanish the bone. Are you any good at that?” The sunflower provided the extra boost to the structure he had likely been missing and would help make up for the missing parts.

“Yes but it just regrows with the same injury.” She stepped towards him to pour the bright green liquid into her cauldron. As soon as he backed away she set to stirring it in stiff up and down motions. The full moon would provide an excellent power source so instead of lighting the flame under the cauldron she peeled open the skylight. It’s not like Blaise would know it would turn his bones opalescent.

“Can you do small pieces? Like shards?” She kept her voice quiet and bland after he spilled some salamander’s blood. She had called him dense and he cowed like an old mare. It was wholly unlike the Draco Malfoy she knew and she honestly couldn’t stand it. He fetched her toad skins without a comment. She would have to deal with the misplaced guilt later, right now she had a full night of brewing.

“I’ve done knuckles before.” Draco stated lightly. “ Anything smaller than that I would probably need to see it first.”

“We can make that happen.” She had never found an actual spell that allowed for x-rays. After all, why bother looking at the bone when you can just vanish and regrow it. Instead through some careful manipulation of one of the health clinics in India she was able to purchase a portable x-ray for the building. Granted it was for horses but it was better than nothing. She would have to send out a message later.

“Your problem was that the bone sat and healed on its own; and in that process, healed wrong. By the time you tried to vanish and regrow it, it regrew following the template of the ‘healed’ bone.” Draco paused from his clean up for a moment.

“And the body sees nothing wrong with scar tissue.” Draco finished with a glassy look toward the moon. It was an objectively simple solution. The muggles had been doing it for ages of course. But when you had magic wounds never existed long enough to heal wrong. Well unless you didn’t have access to a healer.

“Correct. I won’t lie, this is going to hurt him pretty badly. We should probably put him down for a day or two.”

“He will want to be awake during it.”

“We’ll have to re-break it.” Hermione ignored his flinch. “Slowly. Maybe more than once. Then we will have to move it around and pull on it. Stretching out his skin and muscles. Probably for a good bit. It will be extremely painful. It may take a long time.”

“I can let him know.”

“You really should insist-”

“I am not really in a position to demand anything from him actually.” She sighed as he vanished the last of the liquid. He was tired, that was painfully clear. Every move was motivated by determination alone. She was sure sleeping on a couch hadn’t helped much. Of course she slept fine but he was a bit softer than an amalgamation of wood and leather. At least this whole mess had overshadowed her love-struck behavior last night that she remembered with certain clarity. Minor blessings and all that.

“Get some sleep.” She chided softly as she sped up her stirring when the potion began to boil. I will watch this.”

“You'll be up all night.” He commented, not meeting her eyes. He looked meek and pathetic. She didn’t have much patience for either of those traits. If he wanted to self punish that was his issue but he could do it when he wasn’t going to be rooting around in someone else’s body. 

“Drop the martyr act Draco. The other shoe is not going to drop. '' She growled and focused on the potion. “I need you competent for tomorrow.”

“But I-” He sighed and met her glare before she looked down into the potion. She would swear there was something about wizards that set them up with a masochistic complex. She had enough of that during her 7th year. “I’ll just take a quick nap. Wake me up in two hours and we can swap.”

“Sure.” She lied as he made his way over to his couch. It was a very cozy couch but no substitution for a bed. “Draco, go crash in my bed. If you are only going to have a couple of hours rest it should at least be of decent quality.”

He jumped as the sound of the ladder to her loft clacked against the floor in the library. Crookshanks, hearing his signal appeared from the bathroom and sprang up into the bed with a spryness that a cat of his age shouldn’t possess.

“I know I am irresistible but do contain yourself until we have finished the potion.” He joked cautiously. Hermione relaxed at the small return to normalcy. “I am willing to pay my dues  _ after _ it works. At great personal cost I may add.”

“Ew.” She forced her face into a comically over exaggerated look of disgust. “If I vomit into this potion we will have to start all over.”

“You’re pretty.” Draco's voice drifted into a high feminine pitch. “You’re so much stronger than Ron or Harry.”

She openly cringed, scrunching up her face. She kept her eyes trained firmly down hoping her cheeks had already been flushed from the heat of the potion. Then she remembered there was no heat since there was no fire.“No I said your magic was. I am pretty sure Ron would and could clobber you.”

“Who needs fist when you have magic. Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.” Draco shrugged. “Well do try to keep your sticking charms at the cauldron. I don’t know if I have the strength to fight off your desperate advances.”

She let all the exhaustion drip into her voice, drawing out the reactions to over the top proportions. “I will have to contain myself. I don’t know how, considering you sickly paste skin and cold, dead eyes are so dark and brooding. I have always loved a charity case.”

“And I have always loved witches with Hero complexes. Easier to cut things off when they end up dead in a lair somewhere.” He responded, blocking her stinging hex, fully expecting it.

“Prat.”

“Swot.” He nodded before drifting over to sleep in her bed, with her cat, while she stayed up all night brewing a potion for Blaise Zabini. Her life had gotten more strange than usual and for a moment she felt like she was back in school brewing in a toilet.

And so she brewed the rest of the night and into the morning. Casting a quick silencing charm on his wand before it would wake him. By 5 am she wondered briefly if her pillow would smell like rosemary and lavender. By six she had decided it wouldn’t be that bad if it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Muddled Memories:  
> Pensive memories need to be withdrawn fresh or they will fade over time as the wizards memory of the event would fade normally to only the key information with the rest of the details being filled in unreliably. Exceptions to this are memories that have been tampered with.
> 
> BrittleBones:  
> Basically arthritis. It would help a bit in reducing the inflammation around the injury but would not actually contribute to fixing it.
> 
> Related works this chapter: Rowana's cell: Blueprint's of Hermione Granger's workshop.
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/omnenomnom


	32. Chapter 32

"Please let me put you under." Hermione pleaded for the third time. Draco had woken early in the morning, much to his annoyance, and set up the study while they waited for Blaise. He could still smell the cinnamon every time he touched his hair.

"Not on your life." Blaise responded from the cold slab of wood that had at one point been his desk. Currently it was serving as a surgeon's table for the strange bone camera that Hermione had found. She was holding it above his arm briefly before moving him in random configurations.

"Let me go a bit more into detail then. We will be snapping your bone. You know, the thing that has turned you into a pain potion junkie? After that we will be yanking it apart and rummaging around inside your skin until we can figure out where it was supposed to go. Then we will be shooting a thick pin though both parts of the bone to make sure it stays together through your asinine penchants for pissing off husbands and boyfriends. Again. Let me put you under."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't trust you."

"You trusted Mia." Hermione shot back as she set aside the machine. She handed it off to Theo with instructions to return it and tell a receptionist to have it printed. The glowing light blue of the portkey was barely there before he disappeared in a swirl.

"And she was lying to me. Besides, after your choice in dance partners I hardly consider your judgement credible."

"Draco. Do something about him!" She pleaded pulling off some sort of heavy smock.

"He's not my father. He can't make me do anything."

"You'll spasm all over the place."

"Tie me down."

"You'll scream bloody murder."

"Gag me."

"Kinky." Draco commented, breaking up the same argument they had been having for ten minutes.

"Cram it you." Hermione growled.

"So that's what you two are planning for Valentines day? I didn't need to know." Blaise bit out.

"Oh actually. I was thinking of a hot night on the town, hitting up all the places to be seen. It's been awhile since Rita has had an excuse to visit us." Both of their ire now directed at him, the room fell into a broiling silence. It remained that way until Theo reappeared with a stack of papers.

"Finally. " She huffed, grabbing the papers from Theo. "As expected it's a nasty compound fracture. The radius is not properly aligned with…."

She stopped with her face schooling in confusion before huffing in aggravation. She ripped the paper away from the stack and pushed it into Theo's chest. "Is this really the time?"

Draco and Blaise both chuckled as he smiled and waved a paper with thick back ink containing a floo address.

"Well if you are all done fiddle dicking around; Theo, you will have to do it. I am too tired and Draco will need to focus." She huffed pacing over to where Draco stood on the other side of the table. She shoved the papers to his chest. He had seen a human bone before of course but the bright white Hermione had indicated to be bone certainly didn't look like the skeleton in the potions lab. Little flecks of thick shards were embedded in the surrounding tissue like a sort of macabre confetti. The break was horribly aligned and had overlapped just enough to touch, a milky, white growth patching it together in a bulbous crooked prominence.

"What am I doing?" Theo asked brightly, skipping over to Blaises arm and poking it. He was met by a yelp. Blaise hadn't gotten his pain potion today. They didn't want it to interact with anything that they were doing.

"Body bind and silencing spell. It's important because-"

"Okay!" Theo supplied cheerfully casting a spell that secured Blaise to the table as if he had been glued to it. Whatever expletive Blaise had intended to throat at the cheerful wizard were devoid of sound.

"Okay so. This part here." She said turning back to Draco and pointing at the paper in front of him. "The smudy bit is where the body had tried to glue the two halves together. It's weaker than the usual bone and thus didn't hold it very well. It's why it kept snapping. When the bone regrew it came back with it."

"So we need to re enforce it?" Draco asked as he studied the black and white photo. It felt strange that it wasn't moving.

"No. You are going to vanish it and the small shards that are still free floating. After it's gone I am going to realign the bone so that these ends connect. We'll tack it in place with a screw just to be sure it doesn't go back when we try to regrow it." Draco winced, wishing for the umteenth time Blaise had just let them put him in a magical induced coma.

"Alright. And that should fix him?" Draco questioned instead. It seemed so easy. Entirely too easy in fact.

"Yes. Although I can't be sure how much nerve damage was done. It may be possible that he has pain the rest of his life, but at least it won't break constantly, and he should have most of his movement still."

"Let's get on with it then," Theo supplied from where his wand was trained on Blaise. "We wanted to go out tonight to celebrate."

"We don't even know for sure that it will work." Hermione shot back with an exasperated groan.

"Then we will go out to commiserate." He finished the statement with a smile.

"Your positivity makes me sick." Draco responded flatly as he joined Hermione where Blaise's right arm was stretched out. He cast a quick ragdoll spell on the arm allowing it to flop listly on the table. Blaise would still feel it but he had no control over it.

"Okay." Hermione carefully levitated the paper next to Blaise's arm. An exact one to one of the limb below it. "Start with this shard."

And so it went for the next hour. They started with the smallest shards since they would take the most concentration. After slowly working their way up Draco was unable to feel any chips floating around in Blaise's flesh.

"Okay this is the hard part." Hermione prompted as Draco glanced at Blaise for the first time. The man was grimacing and sweating. He looked in pain but it was manageable.

"I need you to start taking this bulbous bit here. Keep grinding it down until you get to this thick white part here. If possible try to leave a zig zag pattern that matches up on each end. It doesn't have to be a perfect fit but it should be close."

Draco did as directed, slowly shaving off layers of the thin plaster. When he edged off the thick surface of Blaises natural bone he felt a muscle twitch desperately. He quickly glanced at Blaise only to see the man's eyes scrunched together with his mouth pulled so tightly together Draco thought it may split. Why couldn't he have just taken the coma?

"Keep going. Once you've broken that open we only have a limited time before his body goes into calcium shock." And so Draco chipped away at the edges making twin jagged surfaces that fit together like puzzle pieces. When he was finally done, he was exhausted and out of magic. Hermione waved her wand over the arm, seemingly checking the feel of it before gripping the two seperate parts of his arm.

"Draco, go on the other side and hold him down. I am going to break it and once I start I can't stop." Draco nodded before heading off to the other side and leaning heavily on Blaise's shoulders. Theo was sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed, his wand trained on Blaise, a noticeable tremor wavering the tip. They were running out of time.

When the audible crack came he felt the slighted twitch under his right palm. His glance at Theo showed a sudden increase in control as Blaise fought against the charm. He couldn't look at the man's face. If the crack was bad the crunching was worse. Hermione grunted as she dragged the bone back and forth trying to line it up appropriately. It sounded akin to chalk on concrete and made his stomach turn. After what felt like an eternity Hermione sighed, a gentle green glow sprung to life on her wand as she checked her work.

"Draco. Come take a look. Does this feel normal?" He cast _brackium emendo_ digging around for any sort of anomaly or missed fragments. It looked wholly like a regular bone and as his magic touched it, it lit up with pale green, a slow healing began. The bone began to shift back to the left.

"Stop!"Hermione hissed with a shove breaking the spell. She winced as she repositioned it back with a slight crunch. Draco saw Blaise's face this time. He was ashen and clammy. His eyes looked a million miles away as his face contorted into a silent scream.

"Sorry, it looks fine." He finished quietly. Hermione nodded, pulling out a thick screw with heavy threading. The thing was probably five centimeters and Draco winced at the thought of it appearing in his arm. Before anyone could react she shot the metal at Blaise's skin with spiral movement. There was a slight burning smell as his arm started to bleed from the entry wound. She muttered a quick episkey spell and the wound healed over, as if nothing was there. They were done, all Blaise had to do was drink the skele-gro and let it heal.

"Let him go." She whispered to Theo. The mahogany haired boy collapsed against his chair with a great sigh. His hands shaking violently.

"Fuck." Blaise breathed out with barely a whisper.

"It may scar." She added tiredly to the man on the table. "Probably not, but maybe."

"Great! Then Draco and I can be matchies." He spat out. "Like I give two shites over a scar. They hardly matter."

"Nice to see you're alive." Draco responded, feeling his own exhaustion creeping in. The last few days had been horrendous.

"That was by far the worst treatment you've come up with."

"I know I am sorry. I wanted to put you out for it." Hermione whispered kindly patting at his forehead with a damp cloth. "Stupid boys and their bravery. You remind me of a set of Gryffindors."

"Kicking a man while he's down. Classless Granger. Real classless. Is this for calling you a mudblood?"

"I did warn you. But-"

"Does anyone ever listen to me? No." They boys all finished in unison. Tired smiles drifting on their faces. Hermione for her part looked equally a mess. Her body wreaked of pepper-up potion and her hair stuck out in every which way. "I hate you all."

"That's not very professional, Healer Granger." Theo tutted from his chair as he sipped on a glass of brightly flashing glass of fire whiskey.

"Still going out tonight?" Hermione scoffed. She was rewarded with a grimace.

"Maybe a quiet night in is in order after all."

"Well did it work? Am I cured?" Blaise responded sarcastically from the table. He hadn't even tried to move it, not that Draco would blame him.

"Not quite. You need to drink some skele-gro. It will try to go back to the previous set up but the screw will hold it in place so it may hurt. If you want we can just cast it for a month and let it heal naturally."

"In for a knut, in for a galleon." He shrugged, wincing at the movement. "Alright bottoms up then."

Hermione simply grabbed the potion and helped him lift his head up. Her hand shook as it snaked around the base of his neck while the other lifted the sickly green vial to his lips. Draco grimaced.

"Well, still tastes like shit." Blaise responded as he lowered himself back to the table. "How long until we- ow."

He winced as Blaise's whole body contorted around his injured arm. The dark man scowled at the appendage.

"How bad is it? I can still send you to sleep." Hermione responded fiddling in her bag for something.

"Not bad. At least comparatively. Just some pressure. It's fine." He growled as he forced his body back to a less defensive state. Draco took the cue to settle into his desk chair that had been pushed in the corner. Hermione collapsed on the loveseat, fighting off the impending crash.

"Right then. I propose a rest for everyone. Blaise if it hurts, scream. We will get up… probably." Hermione muttered, her eyes already drifting closed. Draco was surprised to find his doing the same.

"It'll be fine. You all catch up on sleep. I will be expecting bright and sunny faces for my grand debut later." When Draco closed his eyes Blaise was still scowling up at the ceiling.

Hours later he woke with a start. Everyone else was still recovering in various uncomfortable positions through the room. The late afternoon sun pawed dust motes around the air like a sleepy kitten. It was quiet, peaceful.

He knew Blaise's arm was fixed, even though the man was still asleep on Draco's desk. He knew it was healed because he saw the last golden threads escape his wrist and drift off into the sun beam like they were returning home.

He was expecting something more dramatic. Something like a loud crack or a scream. At least a bolus of magic that would wash over him like a cold shower. Instead it was barely a quiet hum, only waking him up because he was listening for it. It was gone.

A muffled sound from Hermione slipped into the air. It was soon joined by the sounds of clothes shifting and breaths of people coming to consciousness.

"Did it work?" Theo questioned sleepily as he rubbed his eyes. Draco felt awful he had to be the one to hold Blaise down through all that. He and Hermione had other places to look. Theo had to stare the man in the face as they ripped his bones apart. He would probably have nightmares.

"I don't know." Hermione mumbled back stumbling over to the rousing Blaise. He was always the worst one of the bunch when it came to getting up and he was clearly trying to dive back into sleep. "Blaise…. Blaise… get up. We need to see if it worked."

"Hrg." Blaise threw his arm over his eyes trying to block out the sun.

"It worked." The words were his, though he didn't remember saying them.

"Blaise...We need to check." She reached out for his shoulder but he rolled away. Unfortunately the desk did not make a very wide bed. He slipped off before she could catch him and landed with a yelp.

"What are you five?!" Blaise responded as he stood with a glare aimed at his abject savior. "Why in the hell did you push me off the table?"

"You rolled off, git." Theo responded shaking out his arms. His shoulders looked tense and uncomfortable.

"Well she snuck up on me. You figure she would know better than anyone not to surprise people like that." Blaise grumbled as he cracked his neck. "Bint could have killed me."

"Blaise." Draco responded as the other man leaned on his desk.

"God. Give me three seconds to wake up. I just fell off a damned table."

"You're leaning on my desk."

"Well so sorry to leave fingerprints. Hopefully you won't notice them under all my sweat and blood." He hissed.

"You're leaning on my desk with your right arm." The room jumped and heads swung to the frozen wizard who was indeed putting his full weight on his bad arm.

"Oh." Blaise responded pulling his arm up, flexing his fingers. He flinched, waiting for the expected pain but eventually relaxed. "I didn't notice."

"Any residual pain?" Hermione asked scratching something onto the parchment. Notes probably.

"Well…" Blaise grabbed the back of a chair and pulled it towards him. It took a moment before it shifted on the floor. "No. It's stiff. It's weak."

"Makes sense." She murmured. "You haven't used it for five years for anything heavier than a glass. It'll take some time for you to build up the muscle mass… it may never be like it was before."

Blaise stared at his own hand like he had never noticed it before. He twisted his wrist watching the muscles move. The corners of his mouth twitched. "I don't even remember what it was like before."

"You'll still have to be careful with it. At least until the end of the day. Broken bones will always be weaker than intact ones. You'll be able to use it like a regular arm but any injury that could break your other arm will definitely snap this one."

"Sure." Blaise's smile began to creep up his face.

"And I will give you some restorative potions to take over the next few days. You will need a lot of vitamins to recover what we used. You were a chaser right?" When Blaise didn't respond she looked at him. Draco found himself nodding. "Right well I would say a month until you do anything strenuous like quidditch. But knowing quidditch players you won't last more than a week. So a week and I need to be there to repair any damage."

"I can play quidditch again?" Blaise finally snapped from his revelry.

"You can but you need to question if you should. There is no reason to fly around at death defying speeds to smack a ball around." She responded tartly.

Blaise openly laughed. It was an absolutely uproarious one that Draco wouldn't have found out of place on one of the Weasley twins. Blaise was always so controlled Draco wasn't sure he had ever heard him laugh like that. Sure a chuckle here or there, even a tickle jinx or two. But never the raw uncontrolled joyous laughter that was echoing through his study.

"You haven't changed one bit Granger." He finally responded in between laughs. The room remained mostly silent as she waved her wand in complex motions around him.

"You sent us the sphinx, didn't you?" Blaise responded, causing her to jump. "I figured. Draco isn't half as smart as he thinks he is. I knew he couldn't have come up with it himself."

"Yes. I ran into one once who mentioned they needed help finding homes." She murmured stepping back to dig through her bag.

"Still have that hero complex, eh Granger?" The comment made her wince as she unloaded a variety of bottles. "Well I guess it worked in my favor. That line has been flying off the shelves and I have a new arm to spend all the money with. So thanks for being such a bleeding heart."

Draco hadn't realized he was holding his breath until she responded. "Was that sorry diatribe supposed to be an apology?"

Blaise's shoulders released their tension and he began waving around his wand, conjuring little lights in and out of focus. "It's the best you are going to get. I don't do gratitude."

"I do!" Theo jumped up and threw his arms around the witch, hugging her powerfully. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Hermione was laughing as Theo moved on to spinning her around singing praises to her abilities. Blaise chuckled lightly conjuring pink hummingbirds and sending them whirling around the two. It may have actually been the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Ragdoll Curse:
> 
> A mostly harmless curse that results in a target losing all control of their voluntary muscle. They are still capable of feeling but cannot react it it. Released by a standard Finite Incantatem.
> 
> A Bond Completed:
> 
> With the vow completed the bond dissolved into little wisps of magic, released into the air. Most of the power to maintain the oath is drawn from the wizards who cast it thus when it is released the only magic present is the magic used by the bonder.
> 
> New art: deviantart: Omnenomnom


	33. A Stilted Parting

  
Her home was warm in a way his never seemed to be. In the past six months it had become a familiar comfort that was both shocking and wholesome.

He grabbed the tea cup that appeared in the air as he kicked up his legs on his couch. It’s delicate golden china pattern seemed so out of place in the hodge podge collection that was Granger’s workshop. He glanced around the room, various bottles and stoppers spanned a range of size and colors. The three curtains that always remained open over the streets of London were made of red velvet, gold lace, and brown linen. Even her cauldrons varied in manufactures leading to shades of differences in shape and color. Maybe he’d leave the tea cup here after all. It seemed more at home while being out of place than it ever did with him. He scoffed as he realized he was empathizing with a tea cup.

Hermione had landed in her own arm chair facing the fire. Warm licks of flame stuttered back and forth in the hearth causing the light to flicker across her features. Her eyes sparkled with mirth that comes from a roaring success. Through all the tests, it seemed to have worked. Blaise’s arm was fixed. Their bargain was upheld. He was free.

Yet he didn’t really feel that trapped in the first place. In spite of the ghost of the burn on his arm that still stung as if to disprove the sentiment. 

“You have to watch him. He’s going to go dive back into things head first and you’ll have to make sure he doesn’t die for it.” She sighed.

“Wouldn’t want all your hard work to go to waste.” He chuffed back.

“Or yours. You did well. I think in another life you could have been a decent healer.”

“I’m not good with people.”

“You don’t say.” There was silence for a few moments as he geared up for goodbye. He wasn’t sure when his stomach had flipped inside out but now he couldn’t finish his tea.

“I made a copy of a general care plan for you, I will send it through the floo with some extra potions later. Right now I think I am going to fall into bed and forget the world.” She remarked standing.

“Right.” He was slower to get up. He didn’t think drawing it out would be much better but that didn’t stop him from avoiding it. “I will make sure it gets to him.”

“And keep him off a broom for at least a week.”

“Sure.” He shoved his hands into his pockets as he looked around the place for the last time. 

“Night Draco.” She yawned, her back already to him. She didn’t even care but at least it was better than seeing her celebrate.

“Goodbye Hermione.” He all but whispered. He had never had this kind of friend before Theo and Blaise. He didn’t really know how to leave them, he never had to. 

“Mmmmhmm.” She responded airily, climbing up the ladder. “See you on Thursday.”

“Thursday?” He questioned. In a dawning horror he looked down at his wrist. She didn’t know. She thought they were still linked. He could just not point it out. 

“Yeah, Luna made some god awful mulled wine she wants us to try. I am not going in alone.” Hermione responded, hauling herself into bed.

“Well, you may change your mind…” He held up his wrist in an uncharacteristic fit of honesty. She would find out eventually anyway.. “I am not good at goodbyes. Emotional farewells get too messy for me so contain your sniffles please. I like this shirt.”

“I will try.” She responded back with a flat stare before she ducked under the covers. “See you on Thursday.”

“Granger. It’s gone. You don’t have to… We don’t have to...” He didn’t know why he needed the acknowledgment. It was a painful experience and he could just scuttle back through the fireplace and drink himself foolish with the guys. At least that way he could retain some level of dignity.

“........ can whatever this is wait? Some of us didn’t sleep last night because we were making potions for reckless, ungrateful boys.”

“The vow is done. Blaise is fixed. You have fulfilled your side of the bargain.” He tried again, hating the slight waver to his voice.

“Obviously.” She drawled in annoyance. “Now let me sleep. I will message you that morning.”

“But you don’t have to-”

“I know Draco, I am not an idiot. Please get to the point. You clearly have no interest in letting me be until you’ve said your piece. What do you want?”

“A goodbye I guess.” It slipped out before he could stop it. “Not that I deserve one.”

“You are by far, the whiniest person I have ever met.” She groaned. “Goodbye. See you on Thursday. Now leave so I can take off these clothes and go to sleep.”

“I know one couldn’t exactly consider us the usual sort of friends. But I would think you could at least manage to choke out polite parting nicety.” He was trying so hard not to slip into anger. 

“Self loathing is a bad look for you.”

“I am worthy of it.” He scoffed. Blaise may be fixed now but it took him five years to actually do it. 

“I fell off the face of the planet to avoid pity so stop being so dramatic and go home.”

“But-” She had to make everything so difficult.

“For the love of god Draco I will expel you out of my fireplace again.”

“Last time you did that I ended up with a mild concussion.” He quipped uncertainty.

“I’ll make sure it’s a serious one this time. Go home. You’ll still be my friend in the morning. I promise. We can braid each other’s hair and I will try to find a nail polish that doesn’t wash out your skin after whatever horrible concoction we have to choke down Thursday.” He saw the ghost of a smile underneath her sheets. It was about that moment that he realized his own was reflected back as a surge of energy leaked into his body. He sighed lightly before heading for the floo. 

“Touchy bint. Night Granger.”

“Night Draco.”

0000000000000000

Nottinghal was a beautiful old building. Hermione had of course seen parts of it in her short stint as Mia but those memories were blurred by alcohol and darkness. In the daylight the heavy stone walls felt regal and grand without the cold cut priority that most of the old manors had. It had the old world feel of a medieval castle with the modern spells of comfort. It was stunning in a brutish primal sort of way..

“It’s so beautiful here.” She commented to Theo. They were sitting on an old aqueduct turned garden walk. Behind her heavy walls were built up into tall towers and turrets, criss-crossed with thick wooden beams. An assortment of sizes and angles gave the home a cheerful mismatched sense as if it had been built onto by every generation. Honestly, it reminded her of the Burrow, but actually structurally sound and quite a bit more fortified.

“It's much cheerier than it used to be. My father had always preferred dark and dreary so it looked more like the shrieking shack when I was a kid.” Theo glanced up at the carved peaks. “I think this is much better.”

“The structure is so foreign.”

“Well yes, the Notts were supposedly vikings back in the day. Nottinghal has been here since… the 4th century I think.”

“Really?” Hermione gazed at the house with a new appreciation. It seems her theory of additions being made wasn’t too incorrect.

“That’s what the records say. It’s not exactly like there is anyone left to verify.” He shrugged, turning his attention back to the two brooms racing over the fields below them. She cringed as Blaise slammed into Draco from the side knocking him off course roughly.

“I’m-”

“If you try to apologize I will throw my drink at you.” He added with a smile. “Gin tends to stain as well.”

Hermione dropped the subject and eyed the hand holding his drink warily. While Theo was the most amenable of the group it seemed better not to push things. Her observations were broken by the sound of branches snapping.

Blaise flew under them at a heartstopping speed, slamming through the old pines and ripping away branches. Draco was barely behind him being chased by a heavy ball of iron. He pulled up just in time to dodge the incoming bludger which now switched targets to chase after Blaise. 

“Why does anyone enjoy this sport?” She questioned as they disappeared into the undergrowth.

“Not sure. I always play keeper when they make me but prefer to watch. I like all of my limbs intact.”

“Master Nott.” The house elf appeared silently. The thing was likely as old as Kreature with thick tufts of white hairy pointing out of its ears and nose. “Lunch is served.”

“Well we will have to try to catch their attention.” Theo commented as he stood.

“I’ll do it.” She waved her wand and focused. A small spurt of silver light leaped out of her wand. It circled the air before forming into the image of a large rook and settling on a nearby sconce. “Draco, If you are done trying to kill each other lunch is ready.”

The bird nodded slightly before taking wing. It shot off into the forest like a dart and disappeared into the trees.

“Now let’s discuss your house elves.” She smiled as she laced her arm through his. They walked along the aqueduct as the boys appeared on the other side of the forest now chased by an additional silver blur.

Draco and Blaise caught up to them in the dining room. They were still sweating and breathing hard when they dropped their brooms by the door and practically fell into their chairs.

“Heathens.” Theo smiled as he took another bite of his soup.

“Well pardon us for offending your delicate sensibilities Theo. Shall we discuss the mental scarring I received after seeing you face plant naked into that snow bank in Montreal?” Blaise responded.

“I never said I wasn’t one myself!” Theo laughed. “Cheap shot though.”

“Granger, your patronus is slow and now my food is cold.” Draco huffed over his stew.

“Yes that had nothing to do with the impossibly dangerous speeds you were flying at.”

“Told you she’d complain about it.” Draco said as he turned to Blaise.

“She sounds like your mum.” Blaise added helpfully. “Was your patronus always a rook? I would have teased you about that before had I known.” 

“What’s wrong with rooks?” Hermione responded indignantly.

“Most annoying birds on the planet.” Blaise supplied helpfully. “Fitting for a witch like yourself.”

“Hermione, don’t throw food in Theo’s house. It’s rude.” Draco chided as she swiped at a roll. She carefully diverted it as if she was just grabbing it for her own consumption.

“It was an otter during school.” Theo answered.

“I didn’t know they could change.” Draco added.

“They don’t usually.” Hermione responded sliding into lecture mode. “Patrous are manifestations of a memory. You should always use your strongest memory for the best patronus however if that memory changes the form may change as well.”

“Fascinating.” Blaise responded boredly. 

“Can any of you do one?” She shot haughtily.

“Nope.” Theo chuckled while sipping his drink. “Not many dark creatures in the center of London and we have other ways to contact each other. Not much need for one. Although I do wonder what mine would be.”

“I could try to teach you,” She offered gently. “It is pretty difficult. Not everyone can learn it.”

“No thank you.” Theo responded at the same instant that Blaise shook his head. They all turned to Draco who was pushing some peas around his plate.

“What?”

“I can teach you.” Hermione offered. She was somewhat taken aback as he glared at her.

“Death Eater remember. I can’t cast one.”

“Says who? Dark wizards are still capable of happiness.”

“What’s the point? It is neither a sneaky nor efficient way to pass information. If I sent a Dragon to Theo every time I wanted a sales report the whole warehouse would be in an upheaval.” 

“You would not have a dragon as a patronus, mate.” Blaise scoffed.

“Maybe a peacock.” Theo added appearing in deep thought. “They're all over the manor right? Well the ones they sphinx haven’t eaten.”

“Maybe a ferret.” Hermione muttered, much to Draco’s chagrin and Blaise’s amusement.

“Of course it would be a dragon. Between my name and nobility there’s no other creature it could be.”

“Good to see you’re still so egotistical.” Blaise commented, turning to Hermione. “Why haven’t you beat that out of him yet?”

“If I did there would be nothing left.” Hermione remarked smugly. “I think it would be a chicken.”

“Fuck each and every one of you.” Draco growled stabbing a pea into mush. “It doesn’t matter because I can’t cast one.”

“A dragon would be a terrifying animagus form.” Hermione added, mostly to the air. “It’s pretty rare for either to be a magical creature.”

“I didn’t know they were linked.” Blaise commented. 

“It’s what the reading says.”

“Is yours a rook or an otter?”Theo asked.

“Oh I am not one.” Hermione responded by taking a bite of the offending roll. “You have to keep a mandrake leaf in your mouth for a month and never take it out. My parents were teeth healers so I know exactly how disgusting of a concept that is. I could never get past it.”

When she looked up both boys were staring pointedly at Draco who had moved on to swirling his drink. Meeting her eyes he flicked them back to the ceiling.

“Draco, dear. Is there something you want to tell us?” Theo asked wickedly.

“Not in particular.”

“See that’s interesting.” Blaise commented with a nod. “Because I certainly recall a two month period two years ago when you said you had been hit by a jinx that caused something to be stuck in your teeth. A bit of green leaf right Theo?”

“I do believe that is correct.”

“I don’t recall.” Draco said, glancing at the door. She couldn’t help but grin as she caught on.

“Don’t even try to make a run for it, we don’t want to have to lay you out in front of a lady.”

“Since when was Granger considered a lady.” Draco shot back, flinching as both Blaise and Theo’s chairs scraped against the floor in tandem. “Fine. I tried to do it a few years ago but I never managed it.”

“Why not?” Theo asked with a suspicious smile on his face.

“I kept swallowing the leaf.” 

“Hey Hermione.” Theo asked without taking his eyes off the fidgeting blonde. “How long do you need to keep the leaf in your mouth?”

“A month. Well 30 days actually.” She responded feeling like she had somehow gotten caught up in a trap not set for her.

“Well,” Blaise began. “I certainly remember it lasting exactly just short of a month the first time followed by a fit of swearing and pouting for undisclosed reasons.”

“I don’t pout.” Draco responded, his mouth settling into… well a pout.

“I recall the second stint lasting a bit over a month, don’t you?” Theo responded with an evil grin painted on his face.

“You couldn’t possibly remember that.” Draco shot his jaw clenching slightly.

“You aren’t hiding things from us are you Draco.” Theo asked as he fluttered his eyelashes. “You know we wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I think we should get a good grip on him, in case he tries to shift and bolt.” Blaise responded, withdrawing his wand.

“I’m not an animagus so you can put the stick away.” Malfoy spat from his chair as he glared at the rosewood. “I never finished it.”

“You didn’t finish it?” Hermione responded as he voice dripped with offense. “That was the hardest part. After that, all you have to do is make a potion and do some chanting. What do you mean you didn’t finish it?”

It was honestly a sore spot for her. She so badly wanted to be able become an animagus since it would help her move around London undetected. She really just couldn’t get over not brushing her teeth three times a day.

“Shut. Up. Granger.” Draco growled and sent her a look that could wither ivy.

“Hermione what happens after you do the leaf thing?” Theo questioned as Draco twitched.

“Well, you know it works if you have a dream where you talk to your animal form.” Hermione responded lightly. “Kind of like a magical meditation.”

“ _Panulus Pulpa_.” The spell shot out of Blaise’s wand just as Hermione felt the swell of apparition. Before Malfoy would complete the disappearance he hit the ground with a harsh thud.

“Now now Draco. How many times have we talked about asking to be excused from the table. That is so rude of you.” Theo chuckled as Blaise all but descended on the ragdoll form. “I will forgive you if you tell us what yours form was supposed to take.”

“Sod off you nosy bastards.” Draco muttered with lazy lips.

“I needed more practice anyway.” Blaise called out the name of a french tickle charm she was unfamiliar with. Draco twitched on the ground where his body fought against the rag doll hex. His groans were interspersed with the occasional manic laughter. To her surprise Blaise nodded at his work before rejoining the table as dessert and coffee appeared.

“Now, let’s discuss what other philanthropic ideas you have for the company. The sphinx were nice but what else do you have?” Somehow Hermione felt like she just walked into a trap as well.

Approximately 10 minutes of intense grilling over her relationship with the East Mountain Graphorns, Blaise finally cancelled the charm and allowed Draco to breathe.

“Well?”

“It was a snake.” He choked out as his body continued to twitch.

“How fitting.” Hermione commented as she added an excessive amount of cream and sugar to her coffee.

“No.” Theo responded smiling dangerously at the collapsed Malfoy. “A Viper is not worth hiding. A Cobra would be expected and not a source of shame… What kind of snake?”

The room was silent as Draco tried very hard to pretend he was a part of the rug. Hermione sat perfectly still, not even stirring her cup. She felt like she was in a pack of wolves circling a kill and if she moved she would be the next target.

“Fine.” Blaise responded, aiming his wand.

“FINE!” Draco shouted. His cheeks flushed a light pink. “It was a garter snake, OKAY!”

Hermione was the first to break the silence falling into a fit of giggles. Shortly followed by Theo.

“What’s so bloody funny?” Blaise growled looking very much like common courtesy was the only thing preventing him from hexing everyone in the room. He released Draco with a flick of his wand.

“Garter- snakes- are- harmless.” Theo managed to choke out.

“They barely have teeth!” Hermione continued to giggle as Draco’s face deepened to a bright red. “They don’t even have venom!”

“Shut up!” Draco responded as he sent a hiccuping charm at her. All it did was make the laughter come in broken up spurts. She fired a quick fancy dress hex that rebounded off his shield.

“They tuck their heads into their bodies when attacked! They don’t even bite!” Theo added as he ducked behind a chair dodging a tripping spell and sending off his own spell. It was some sort of light pink shot that when hitting Draco splashed his white shirt with a bright red ink.

“Sounds about right.” Blaise shouted as he dove under the table as a jelly-leg jinx passed over his shoulder.

“I hate every blasted one of you!” Draco shouted and proceeded to lay waste to Theo’s dining room. By the time they were done a variety of damage was scattered about the room and no one had standard function of their body anymore. But somehow, they all ended up laughing in the end, even Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gartner Snake Facts:  
> Gartner snakes do in fact have very weak venom however as this story is set in the mid 2000's and the discovery of this fact did not come to light until around that fact I imagine it would not have passed to the common public yet.
> 
> Nottinghal:  
> The Notts are canonically Norse. As such I imagine they had existed on the land long enough that when people started going around naming things the "Nott Ancestral Hall" likely became Nottinghal.


	34. An Awkward Line

She placed a cap on the vial of pixie tears. The pastel pink liquid sparkled lightly in the woodland sun. Neville had formed this part of the greenhouse after the Forest of Dean and she always took immense comfort in it.

"Alright, wrap it up Malfoy." Hermione glanced over to where the half a meter tall pixies flitted around him. Their stained glass wings made up the length of their entire body. Small garments made of flowers and leaves twisted around impossibly thin forms. A soft bed of violets and green tufts of fern framed his sun dappled face. His eyes flashed with a quiet unending sadness as his lips pulled into a gentle smile. He was heartbreakingly beautiful and it set the small fairies to tears. Which was precisely what they needed.

"Finite." She muttered. The spell broke and he returned to just Draco, replacing the sensitive injured soul with a scowl that scared off the remaining spectators.

"Fair weather folk." He huffed, gracefully rising to a sitting position.

"Fun spell." She smiled and picked a blade of grass off his ear.

"Pretty useless though. It really only works when you are in a natural setting and you must remain completely still." He dove into the basket she set down, roving for their lunch.

"Then why do you know it?" Hermione herself didn't have much room in her mind for useless spells. There were only so many wand movements and incantations one could remember before her head exploded.

"My mom would cast it when I was a kid. I would insist on being the knight who came to rescue her. So she needed to look like a princess. Malfoys don't half do anything."

"Aw that's so cute!" Hermione squealed a bit. Thinking of tiny, pleasant Draco in an ill fitting suit of armor with a toy shield was adorable.

"No it was childish." He huffed, closing up the basket. "Didn't you pack a bottle opener?"

"You're a wizard." She scoffed scooping up her own bottle. She aimed her wand at the soda and muttered an opening spell. The spell pinged against the cap before absorbing into it and disappeared. "Oh."

"Most magical sodas can't be opened by a charm." He stated as if she should already know that.

"What? Why not?"

"What would happen when the shop owners would cast an opening charm when unpacking the box?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow. Seeing her scowl he set about looking for a twig. "I will just transfigure something."

"No it's fine. I can just ask Luna to send one down." She waved her wand and a small spurt of silver light leaped out of her wand. It circled the air before forming into the image of a large rook and settling on a branch. "Luna, can you send us a bottle opener?"

The bird took wing, crashing into the undergrowth with a burst of smoke.

"What made it change?"

"I started using a new memory. It was different enough from the old one that it didn't make the same creature."

"What was wrong with the old one?"

"It stopped working." At that moment a small silver bottle opener appeared in the air and hung there.

"What was your old memory?" Draco swiped at the tool and set to work on opening the sodas.

"The day I found out I was a witch." She watched him flick the cap open with ease before handing her the drink. As if on queue a niffler dug its way up from the ground next to him patiently waiting for the discarded caps.

"I can see why that wouldn't be all that joyful anymore. " He tossed the small mole the glittering buttons of metal. It happily caught them and shoved them into its stomach pouch before digging back into the dirt. "What is it now?"

"Why do you care?" She huffed back.

"Color me curious. A side effect of laying in a fairy tale for an hour, which is _not_ my aesthetic. You owe me." He reminded her with a smirk. He was in a way right. He didn't have to be here, not anymore.

"The moment I received the list of war casualties." She muttered over the rim of her bottle.

"Cheerful." He drawled.

"The emotion doesn't need to be happy. Just powerful. And the body shaking relief at seeing what names weren't on it was damn powerful. Granted followed by an absolute gut wrenching amount of guilt."

"Hm." The warm air hung with silence as she unpacked the food.

"So… how long do you intend to keep dragging me around the planet?" He grimaced and took a swig of the light purple drink, as soon as he finished it turned a light blue changing flavor.

"As long as you are conscious I suppose." Hermione responded with a grin. "After that I think I will use you as a doorstop."

"Really, Granger. I don't want to be a pity case."

"Look. You may not be the wittiest, or most complimentary, or best influence-"

"No need to insult me I can just leave." He huffed, as if making to stand. She held him down by his sleeve slightly shaking her head. "But you are also smart, and brave, and kind when you want to be. It is no struggle to have you around."

"Well if you insist." He offered taking a bit of a tuna sandwich she had brought. "It is so hard to find a good cook these days."

"Prat." She laughed picking up her own meal. By the time they had finished the afternoon sun was fading to a deep amber giving the appearance of pools of liquid gold on the forest floor.

"Granger." She had laid back for a quick kip when he lightly tapped her wrist. "Stay quiet and slow."

She rose at a glacial speed to where he was sitting. He lifted his own arm to point in absolute silence. Following his gaze she stared out into the woods straining her eyes as she searched among the thick trees and bunched brambles.

It wasn't the color that caught her eye. It was the movement. A violent shaking of some blackberry bushes. If she had been anywhere else she would have probably considered it a squirrel or a hedgehog. A generally feeling of lightness filled her, as if ever care in the world had disappeared and she would just exist.

It was wholly unexpected when a bright white unicorn emerged from the thorns. It must have been a young one to hide so efficiently in the bush. Mothers tend to nest down their young while they wandered a new area.

As if on cue a graceful light blue female charged into the clearing, sparing barely a glance to Hermione and Draco before galloping over to her foal. The little filly greeted her mother with a light whinny. She lowered her head to nicker at the foal. The sun glinted off the long spiral tip in a smooth sheen.

"Stunning." Draco breathed out beside her. She glanced at him only to see his eyes transfixed on the creatures before them. It occurred to her he probably hadn't had a chance to see one since their fourth year. Even then their innocent aura was likely not enough to break through to him at the time.

"I wish I could sneak a tail hair from them." She turned her attention back on the duo. The foal had stumbled out on shaky legs into the fading sunlight.

"Well, go pet them. Aren't unicorns in love with light and goodness and such? I don't understand why they aren't already fawning over you."

"You never paid attention in Care of Magical Creatures did you?" She huffed, fighting her way through the mental fog. "Above all unicorns value innocence."

"And?" There was a pregnant pause as she leveled a look at him. After a moment he finally dragged his gaze away from the unicorns to meet hers. "Oh. OH! Granger...ew."

"Ew?!" She baulked at his judgement.

"I did not need that image in my mind." He grimaced in distaste and she felt the distinct urge to pour something sticky over him.

"Well you aren't exactly a prized pig yourself." She huffed spelling the blanket from under him and into her bag.

"Stop fishing for compliments. You aren't _that_ awful. I was referring to the idea of Ron Weasley shagging anyone." He shuddered and stood himself.

"Who said it was Ron?" She grinned as the idea registered on his face. He settled into a somewhat amused smirk.

"His own brother Granger. Tsk tsk. Do you have that whole family wrapped around your little finger?" He sauntered off towards the nearest apparition point leaving her to follow.

"Good Lord. It wasn't Charlie either. I have spent years traveling the globe you know." He paused as he passed a bush, lightly brushing against a leaf.

"I am sure the men of Britain weep at the loss." He responded, swirling something around his finger. The movement was light and elegant, his eyes soft as he considered something. He looked like a whole different person when he actually released the constant tension in him. "I may just have to bribe you with a spare unicorn hair to entreat you back to us."

Coming back to herself, she swiped at the peralesent strand that he dangled from his hand only to have him jump back away with an annoying amount of agility. He didn't even trip over a broken branch like she had hoped.

"Now that's not very nice Granger." He tsked with a lecherous grin. "I can't blame you if all you had to go off was that dreadfully dull ginger. You should try some proper tastings."

"You are a perfect example of what is wrong with British men." She huffed missing another swipe. "This is why I prefer the Spanish. Give it here."

"Not until you promise to leave your beaus behind and return to the good English stock." He stared her down in challenge and her fingers twitched around her wand. She was pretty sure he was baiting her to stun him which meant he had a plan. However, if she was fast enough…

The second her hand closed around her wand he sprinted away diving between the trees. She was steps behind him, crashing through the brush with reckless abandon. She only spared a moment's thought to offending the unicorns before nearly smacking her head on a branch and swore. The more distance between the creatures the more more ridiculous this whole thing seemed but she was already running so...

"Give it here Malfoy. It's for your own rakish friend." A flash of platinum to her left had her swiftly changing course trying to swipe at him.

"Not until you admit British boys are better, Granger. I'll make you scream it from the rooftops!" He cried from somewhere in the vast green curtain.

"How old are you? Keep teasing me like this and I'll start to think you like me!" She whined but chased him anyway. She mused offhandedly as she followed him through the forest. They deserved a bit of childish fun, afterall, it's not like they had ever gotten the opportunity otherwise.

00000000000000000000

She had joined Theo in a companionable silence in the manor's back garden. Thick torches with warming charms attached had melted the snow in the immediate vicinity but still left the fresh white blanket on the trees that bordered the garden wall. It was an idyllic scene, ruined by the overhanging feel of the Gothic Malfoy manor behind them. The off white stone looming over them, a constant threat and reminder.

The curtains had all been drawn and all the doors had been placed under powerful repulsion charms to keep anyone from entering. According to Theo noone had stepped foot in the house for years. Even Draco never went past the patio. In spite of that she couldn't help constantly glancing up towards the windows, swearing she had seen a shadow or a curtain move. The house seemed very much alive and she didn't like it.

Her revelry was broken by the sounds of branches snapping.

"They're classless really." Hermione mused to distract herself. She was petting the new baby sphinx in front of her. It's large round belly tickled under her nails. It clawed her arm, pulling it close to its body so its needle coated back claws could tear at her skin. She pulled away just in first of the next generation.

"They're just having a good time. No shame in that." Theo responded with a goofy grin. He was measuring the length of the mane on another cub and recording it in his journal. The mothers were sitting off to the side whispering to each other.

"They could be a little more cautious." She flinched at the sound of a heavy branch cracking. "After I went to all that effort to fix him."

As if summoned the two wizards broke out of the forest pulling up to a whiplash inducing stop and lowering themselves to the ground. The kittens rolled quickly onto their paws before hissing and darting back into the maze, their parents following.

"You do wonders Granger. It's basically like new!" Blaise panted happily as he settled down next to her on the lightly warmed stone. It had barely been a month since he had regained control of his arm. Already his temperament towards her had improved and she was almost looking forward to seeing them. She blamed isolation making her desperate for human contact.

"Good. You really should be more careful though. Quidditch is a horridly dangerous sport." She chided as he threw an arm around her. She tried to avoid grimacing at the sweaty limb.

"Ah but you love a man in uniform." Theo snorted. Draco agreed, looking far too amused for his own good.

"Do not!"

"Krum." Draco responded tepidly.

"He was the first boy to ask me out."

"McLaggen." Theo added.

"He was reserve!"

"Weasley." Blaise scrunched up his face in distaste. "Really should have picked McLaggen over that one."

"He was nearly as handsey as you." She countered eyeing his arm around her.

"Ah, but I am much more skilled at it. Why don't we run a few more dexterity tests in private?" He winked and Hermione smacked him in an attempt to cover her rising blush. Apparently it didn't work well as Blaise raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh ho!" Taking advantage of her embarrassment Blaise tilted her chin toward him. "You are awfully pretty when you blush."

"You should see her when she's angry." Draco supplied with a scoff distracting the other man enough that Hermione could slide out from under him.

"I have always loved a woman with fire." Blaise responded, kicking his feet up on the stone wall.

"You love women with more air than brain." Theo responded sunnily from where he was having much more success with the continuation of his notes.

"I'm a complex man. I can love a lot of things."

"Rake." Hermione muttered as she settled back into a seat further away from the handsome wizard. "You are trouble if I have ever seen it."

"Have you seen Mr. Tall, Blonde and Sulky over there? Now that's trouble." He chuffed. "You should see him when he goes on a tear."

"I don't-" Draco started with a glare.

"You do." Blaise finished, watching a cloud drift by. "It has been a hot minute though. Maybe we should go out tonight. We haven't really gone for it with me at full capacity yet."

"So we haven't gotten a chance to watch your pathetic right hook. Thrilling." Draco responded blandly.

"I think it's a great idea!" Theo supplied, finally dog-earring his notebook and smiling at the group. "Mia was a trip and a half to drink with and Blaise hogged her last time so I didn't even get a dance."

"I don't…" Hermione started thinking of how to politely refuse.

"What's wrong, Granger? Scared?" Blaise taunted with just the right amount of dismissiveness to his voice.

"Hardly. I just don't see the need to go gallivanting through a dirty old club to rub up on random creatures." She huffed not rising to the very clear bait.

"Aw that's no fun! I want another shot. I know you had a roaring time before." Theo joined in on the needling and she looked helplessly at Draco to control his friends.

"Leave it be men. It's not her scene." He smiled blandly, unable to resist the barb. "She's much rather spend her nights curled up with a romance novel."

"How dare- That's for research!" She started immediately interrupted by a quirked eyebrow from Blaise. She fought down the blush in her cheeks and pinned her most dangerous look on the promiscuous wizard.

"No need to read about it, love. I am the source material for those books if you want to do some 'research'." He winked even as she cupped a handful of nearby snow whipping it at him. "Come on, you could use an outing. We may even find you a fun little male bookworm to keep your library warm if you catch my drift."

Theo choked on his drink while covering a laugh. She glanced at Draco, seeing his glare pinned on Blaise. His voice was measured and controlled as he spoke. "Not everyone is a sexual deviant like yourself."

"Or like you." The cad finished with a snort turning back to Hermione. "Don't let his judgement influence you. He is just as bad as I am, if not a bit more covert."

"Well-" Hermione started flipping over a rejection in her mind.

"I said no." Draco spat. There was a moment of silence as the evergreens behind them swayed. Even the improper, humor filled boys looked cautiously over at their third friend.

" _You_ said no?" She responded tartly glaring at his stormy eyes. She was vaguely aware of Blaise and Theo shifting back a few inches. "I was unaware I needed your permission to go anywhere. You don't need to be so jealous."

"I'm not jealous." He scoffed, looking disgusted with the whole idea.

"They can be friends with both of us you know." She growled out through clenched teeth. "You can _share._ "

"First off, I don't share. Second off, too bad, you aren't coming. Blaise can dive solo into some unholy orgy involving a banshee, a fury, and a giant. Or whatever else he has planned."

"You can't tell me what to do." She shot back immediately turning her attention to the other two parties watching the argument unfold with interest. "He can't tell me what to do."

"The hell I can't. These are my friends." He growled with much too much emotion.

"And. You. Can. _Share_." Her lips pulled up into a familiar smirk as she found her winning point. "Besides didn't you say something about needing to experiment more with British boys?"

The statement resulted in Draco slamming his mouth shut, his eyes smoldering with anger. Both Blaise and Theo stared at her with wide eyes.

"What...uh… what exactly do you two talk about?" Theo questioned innocently.

"Nothing!" They both responded hotly before continuing to stare at each other threatening violence.

"I feel...What's the word?" Blaise questioned Theo, breaking the silence.

"Objectified."

"Oh this is what all those broads were complaining about?" He mused. "I should change up my approach, this feels awful."

"See!" Draco shouted, swinging his hand in gesture to the wizard. "You're already changing him! He'll be a nun soon!"

"Oh please." She huffed, she had no idea why he was fighting her so hard on this. "You have to be a girl to be a nun. And even if he was all of womankind would be better for it!"

"Rude." Blaise supplied with a grumble.

"Are you hearing this!?" Draco growled over to his friends.

"Well she's not wrong." Theo suggested as he continued to sip his drink, earning looks of ire from the two males.

"Right… Well as cute as the domestic squabble act is..." Blaise responded jumping up to a standing position. "It's settled. Mia comes with, we have a grand old time, we send her home with… apparently someone British and everyone sleeps happy, yeah? Or doesn't, don't need to know your mating habits, Granger."

"Fine." Draco responded, crossing his arms. "If she can even manage to draw in any males attention. The air of desperation around her is pretty thick."

"Excuse you." Hermione was about to launch her left at him before Theo spun her around and marched her through the snow towards the stables.

"Nonsense. If I know anything about women it's toeing the line between sexy and desperate. I'll transfigure you something that will have every humanoid in the place falling over you. Come now, we have work to do." She risked a glance over her shoulder looking at a somewhat exasperated Malfoy and a deeply amused Blaise wondering what exactly she had gotten herself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om:
> 
> Unicorn favor:
> 
> Both canonically and historically unicorns prefer virgin females. Occasionally virgin males.


	35. A Return to Normalcy

His head felt full as soon as he walked in. The air was heavy with the thick blue smoke vaguely reminiscent of the moors. Music slammed out against the speakers in a pulse breaking beat. Most of the club was shrouded in darkness barring the faint blue lights scattered around the booths and bar.

“Are you sure we should be here?” Hermione questioned behind him, a thick layer of skepticism was layered in her voice. He felt her jump towards him as a ghostly howl echoed against the walls. Turning to face her he pointedly avoided looking down. Theo should never be trusted to dress a woman, he wouldn’t recognize subtle if it bit him in the eye. The black tube of fabric that was sucked against Hermione’s skin could barely be considered a shirt let alone a dress and was not at all public appropriate from any angle other than head on and three meters away.

“Always open to everyone.” Theo responded jauntily as Blaise’s gaze instantly turned to follow a wispy slip of a woman. Draco only caught a glimpse but was willing to bet she was some sort of veela and even she had more skin covered than Hermione.

“We can go.” Draco responded over the din. Something felt off but he couldn't quite identify what it was. His eyes roved over the crowd sensing nothing out of the ordinary. As his attention drifted back to Hermione he had to remind himself to latch on to her discolored green eyes. With how close they were crammed even her lightly tanned shoulders felt dangerous and inappropriate. Theo had cast some sort of glitter charm on her skin to hide her scar and it reflected the moonlight in an even ethereal sheen.

“No. I want to stay.” Hermione shook her head astutely, her now black curls bouncing around her face.

“Dance with me!” Theo shouted, pulling her off into the crowd. “Blaise hogged you last time and if Draco isn’t going to make a move he doesn’t get dibs.”

“I am no one's dibs!” For some reason she looked at him. He gave a shrug of his shoulders as she disappeared. Blaise actually stuck around long enough to join him at their usual booth. Within ten minutes Theo came sulking back minus one dance partner and up a drink.

“What happened to you?” Blaise crooned past a huldra that had settled in his lap, stoking small flames on the table.

“She lasted less than two minutes before poof!” Theo threw his hands up into the air, spilling the last remnants of his drink. “Someone hit me with a tripping spell and she was gone.”

“Aren’t you responsible.” Draco grunted sarcastically as he scanned the crowd looking for a mop of honey brown. “We should probably check on her.”

“Relax. She’ll be fine.” Blaise rolled his eyes dismissively as he whispered something in the spirit's ear. Draco grimaced and turned out to watch the dance floor anyway, eyes scanning for her.

Hours later he had only glimpsed Hermione once, dancing with a thin wizard before the crush of bodies had swallowed her up again.

“You were supposed to be watching her.” He all but hissed to Theo on the fourth pass of the floor. They had tried their best to find her but the place was so full on Saturdays the best they could catch were glimpses. 

“Calm down mate. She’s right over there. By the bathrooms.” Theo held up his hands in surrender. Draco’s eyes roved over her the first time, skipping the deep raven head entirely. It was only when he remembered the glamour he was able to properly pick her out. Next time he would make sure she had hot pink hair so he could find the reckless witch when she flitted off to do Merlin-knows-what.

“Do we need to do something about that?” Theo shouted from his right, his voice marked with uncertainty. Draco’s eyes settled on where Hermione was leaning against a wall speaking very familiarly with a werewolf. The mutt was pawing at her hip clearly aiming for new territory. 

“She's a big girl. She can handle herself.” Draco spat unconvincingly as she lightly pushed the hand away with a giggle.

“I am less worried about her and more what you plan on doing mate.” Blaise drawled looking meaningfully at his drink. The remaining liquid of all three glasses leaked out from hairline cracks, splattering against the floor in a slow drip. He forced himself to release his drink onto a nearby bar table. Blaise watched him blankly while doing the same.

“Do you need to go?” Blaise asked in a carefully measured voice.

“I’m fine.” He was most certainly not fine. 

“What was that about?” Theo questioned shooting a quick wink at the waitress that skittered by them with a wave of his now empty drink. Almost immediately it was replaced and he blew a jaunty kiss.

“Nothing. I just hate werewolves.” He muttered, wondering if he could make one of the lights fall without crushing Hermione in the process.

“What about Harrison?” Blaise asked, recalling the shop owner in Turkey.

“Or Michelle.” Theo responded, bringing up images of a girl Blaise had dated.

“Or-”

“Fine I hate  _ that  _ werewolf.” Draco spat feeling ready to set something on fire as the man called over a few of his group. They were obscuring her from his view and the last shot he had of Hermione’s face looked distinctly worried. “There’s more.”

Theo and Blaise started forward, mirroring his own step. Before he could do anything too drastic a slight wave of magic passed briefly over him.  His nerves were immediately calmed when all of the males hit the floor in a clatter, their bodies perfectly stiff. She gave a haughty little toss of her hair before gingerly stepping around the casualties and making her way over to the bar.

“Yikes.” Theo stated relaxing his posture back into a slouch,

“Talk about a witch.” Blaise responded in an almost dreamy voice. “Should we-

“I think I need another drink.” Draco was already heading off to where he had last seen her, his friends lost in the crush of people.

When he found her again she was at the bar. Her hair had caught some dew from the rolling banks of fog and sparkled in the moonlit hue of the lamps. She was desperately trying to get the attention of the goblin behind the bar to no avail. Each successive attempt of throwing her arm up slipped the hem of the bandage she called a dress higher, revealing the warm, soft peach skin of her thigh. As it was there wasn’t much of anywhere left for it to go.

“An oclotonic and gin.” He stated plainly, lightly tapping three galleons on the bar. The goblin instantly turned toward him and nodded. He kept his eyes trained straight ahead, forcing himself to breathe.

“Anything else?”

“A giggle water for the lady.” He responded, tossing the goblin the gross overpayment. The creature merely snapped it away before beginning to prep the drinks. The heavy upfront tip would keep Hermione from bending over the bar too much tonight.

“Thanks! I have been trying to get his attention for ages.” She sighed, still breathing hard.

“Well you have got the attention of half of the bar.” He responded as his drink slid down the bar towards him. Her flushed face looked at him without comprehension.“I wouldn’t be surprised if half the males in here knew what color your knickers are. If you’re even wearing any under that slip of a dress.”

“Draco!” She hissed spinning around with red cheeks, yanking on the hemline. She must have indeed drawn some attention as the flush extended to her neck and she stiffened before turning back with robotic motions. “I hate Theo.”

“Don’t we all.” He responded with a nod towards the goblin as her drink appeared in her hand.

“Your eyes are yellow.” She huffed sipping her drink, instantly letting out an adorably charming burst of giggles. He tipped his head towards his milky white drink, smirking at her reaction. She could use some lightening up. As long as it was within two meters of him so he could keep her out of trouble that is. He could really get used to her presence. At least with the guys around to keep his irrational anger in check.

“I like the silver better.” It was his turn to fight down his blush. He looked away to avoid saying anything. Scanning the crowd offered no solace however it did present a new problem. A suspicious face spotted them from across the crowd, a single-minded purpose burning in the dull light.

“Shit.”

“What?” Hermione responded attempting to follow his gaze. He pulled her tight against his chest, looking for all the world like a possessive asshole. He would probably be paying for that later judging by the sharp intake of breath.

“Potter is here.” He smiled gently and faked a laugh as he looked down at her. It was a poorly planned move as her chest was squeezed tightly into the outfit and was only prevented from spilling over the top by the Grace of Lady Vosin herself. He shifted uncomfortably and risked a glance up only to see a dark head of hair moving along the edge of the bar very clearly having spotted the both of them. “And he’s coming over.”

“I have to-” She pulled away slightly, tensing in his grip. He felt the beginning stages of her panic set in at a tremble. He snaked an arm around her waist hoping to Merlin she would catch on.

  
“You can’t. He has already seen you. You are just a faceless witch of the night right now. Let it stay that way.” He could very nearly feel the burn of her anger through his shirt but he knew her leaving would just look more suspicious. She really didn't look a thing like herself currently. As long as she didn't give it away before then, Potter would have to move on quickly or risk drawing attention.

“I hate you.”

“Potter.” He greeted as if it was the most minor annoyance in the world. He was close to horrified as the head of black hair shook against his chest with a giggle. Her hand lightly tracing his collarbone.

  
  


00000000000000000000

“Malfoy.”

_ Shite shite shite.  _ Hermione was in emergency mode. Every cell in her body screamed for her to bolt. It was only the gridlock grip on her waist that made sure she stayed put. She would kill him for this.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Malfoy shouted as diplomatically as possible over the music.

“Who’s your friend?” Even with the pounding base of the music she was sure Harry would hear her heart slamming against her chest. “I thought she looked familiar.”

“Drakie? Is this a friend of yours?” She responded in a voice she had hoped was breathy and seductive. Judging by the stuttering laugh from Draco she had failed spectacularly. Taking the last ditch effort she cast a quick glamour spell, making her face appear thinner and throwing some freckles across her nose for good measure. She felt both boys inhale sharply and hoped Harry would think it was some sort of cosmetic spell. Before anyone could react, Draco's drink dumped onto the floor. Hermione squealed as it hit her legs. He glanced down at her wholly unfamiliar face. To his credit he didn’t jump, but she could have done without the grimace. “Goblin another Cinnamon Snap.”

“Damn sorry about that love.” He spoke into her ear as if they could barely hear each other, his lips tickling along it’s shell. Hermione shivered under the touch. He was forced to pull away as a similar looking but much different smelling drink appeared. He pulled back sighing as Harry cleared his throat impatiently. His voice leaked with disdain, all but the perfect image of his father. "Mia. I present to you the _great_ Harry Potter."

Reluctantly she let her eyes slip up to tackle an old ghost. His eyes were still as vibrant as ever with thick dark lashes that were a striking contrast to the color. They carried a heavy suspicion that was quickly fading. The rolling banks of fog gave his still mostly uncontrollable hair movement as it drifted across his forehead hiding a faded lightning bolt. She was never able to make that damn scar disappear.

“Oh my-” She forced a painful level of excitement into her voice trying her best to demonstrate the mettle of a cocker spaniel at a volume loud enough to be heard. “Harry Potter. Minister of magic.The boy-who-lived, the hero of-”

“Please. Harry is just fine.” He cowed uncomfortably, suddenly looking like her childhood friend again as he rubbed his arm absently. “And you are?”

“Mia Merago. At your service in  _ any way _ .” She purred and forced herself to ignore the goosebumps that crawl up the back of her spine as her old friend visibly shuddered. She knew all the right buttons to push to make him withdraw, even if she felt bad about doing it.“Drakie, you never said-”

She cut off the statement with a yelp as she felt a pinch at the back of her arm. She risked a glance up but Draco had the same stoic bland look though she was able to make out the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Actually I have some questions if you don’t mind.” Harry shouted, pulling out his wand and lightly tapping his throat. He gestured to her asking for permission but before she could give it she saw Draco’s wand held out to Harry.

“We’re already connected. Besides, you can’t ask a witch you just met to let you point a wand at her throat. It's rude Potter… and suggestive.” To her surprise Harry didn’t really react. He simply breathed out slowly schooling himself before nodding to Draco. Draco scowled but lightly tapped his wand at the side of Harry’s throat before pulling her tight against his body.

“Well pet, he can hear us now so let’s keep things suitable for... I wouldn't say polite... For intrusive company.” Hermione forced down a sip of her drink to produce a passable giggle.

“Miss Merago. I am so sorry to intrude on your time.” She was able to produce an actual giggle as she saw Harry scrunch up his face while he stared at the possessive hand around her waist. “I just saw you drop that petrification hex and wanted to commend your skills.”

“Oh it was nothing.” She brushed off lightly absently dragging her hand along Draco’s trying her very best to make it look natural. She was unsure if the resulting goosebumps were an indicator of her doing it correctly or terribly.

“Four grown wizards with one hex is certainly not nothing.” Harry responded, shoving his hands in his pockets. A small pang went through her heart when she realized he was wearing a Weasley jumper. She wondered if Molly still made them for her and they were just piling up in a closet somewhere. Probably not. It was best they all had forgotten about her, apparently not including Harry.

“They were werewolves actually.” Draco nearly growled out. 

“Oh. You saw that.” She managed to eek out meekly. Judging by the resulting flash of steel in his now orange eyes he had indeed. It was stupid really, she should have known better. A hex that large certainly wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“Even more impressive.” Harry responded nodding his head. As the music paused the lights brightened for a moment, better lighting his face. He looked tired. So awfully tired. She knew his life was probably very stressful now and felt a stab of guilt at not being around to help him suffer through the dredge that was ministry work. 

“Well I grew up around boys. You have to learn to be quick.” She supplied the half truth easily and felt her body loosen slightly. Draco’s hand had drifted to draw possessive little circles around her hip bone. She found it to be a welcome distraction and let herself relax against him, smirking in the sharp intake of breath behind her.

“Where did you grow up?” Harry questioned watching her carefully.

“Spain.” They both responded at the same time. The hint of suspicion behind his eyes indicated they probably sounded rehearsed and caused her to tense again.

“Barcelona, she’s part of the Nott family.” Draco finished for her taking a casual sip of his new drink. “Why do you care?”

“I am just being polite.” Harry offered with a blank look, his green eyes flashing, knowing he had caught on to something. Damn his natural intuition. “Ever been to Australia?”

“No.” Hermione responded a bit too quickly. He was throwing her off kilter, his expressions were too close, too nostalgic. “Why do you ask?”

“Well your magic. It felt awfully familiar.” Harry regarded her with a guarded face. She briefly wondered why no one had come to save her yet only to realize the only one capable of it was floundering next to her. She flit her eyes over to Blaise and Theo sitting happily at a booth chatting up the waitress, completely unaware that they were in dire straits.

“That’s funny. I didn’t know magic had a feeling.” She responded skeptically.

“Yeah me either.” He supplied almost wistfully. “Not until a friend pointed it out to me. Her magic felt a lot like yours actually. Whenever she would cast something powerful, I could feel it. I would know it anywhere.”

She felt Draco tense behind her. She needed an out and quickly. If it weren’t for the fact Harry could find Draco in a minute she would have already pulled out a midnight potion and broken it on the floor. Hell without Draco she wouldn’t even be here. God she was about three seconds from fainting. Maybe a quick obliviation was in order. It would be messy but she could probably pull it off right?

0000000000000000000000

He felt her resolve breaking. Her hand twitched towards her wand pocket. She was ready to bolt. He squeezed her arm in solidarity and apology for what he was about to say.

“And you are implying....?” He drawled boredly, dragging his hand up to trace along Hermione’s collar bone. The movement distracted Potter from her eyes. He smirked when she quivered lightly. Maybe if they made him uncomfortable he would just go away.

“I was just wondering why that was. Maybe she knew her.” He scowled at the two of them, his face softening briefly. “I’m just looking for my friend.”

Draco scowled as he felt her stifle a wimper, she was folding and fast. He breathed out an apology, so quiet he was sure she wouldn’t hear it, as he leaned down to lightly kiss her neck. “And what do you think she would want with a filthy mudblood like Granger.”

His brain rioted as Hermione’s pulse jumped underneath his lips her body stiffening. He was fairly certain he would be slapped but not sure by who. He refused to meet Potter’s eye, instead choosing to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. It was wrong seeing them black like that. They should be honey brown, the kind of brown that when the sun hit it it flashed gold.

“Son of a-” He felt the general rising of magic and braced himself for the hit. This would look bad, so bad. But it would give Hermione a chance to disappear into the crowd and he doubted Potter would slip the whole story.

“Ew. A muggleborn.” Hermione’s body relaxed into his again, her back pressed into his chest comfortably. He hissed lightly as she brushed against him. Thankfully she was probably too petrified to notice. “You let them have wands here? What a travesty.”

Harry looked as if lightning had stuck him before settling into a tense disappointment. Hermione must have decided one where her line was and had no issue trampling all over it. She continued the assault. “Next you’ll tell me you let them breed.”

“Lovely company you keep, Malfoy.” Harry huffed out clenching his fist. Draco felt genuinely bad about the next move of this chess game. The minister was certainly an obsessive, overprotective arse, but it still seemed in bad taste.

“You’re the one who came looking.” He captured Hermione’s face trying his best to focus on all the parts that were not actually hers. He avoided her eyes like the plague. “ Don’t mind him, love. He’s chasing after some muddy know-it-all who dumped him. Seems to think I had something to do with it.” 

Just behind the surface of her eyes he saw the hit land. She had no outward reaction but she didn’t need to. He already felt horridly guilty but it was win-lose at this point. “Don’t worry overly much. He’s only a half-blood anyway so it’s hardly a loss.”

“Well this has been pleasant.” Potter gritted out though his teeth. Somehow the club still moved around them, completely oblivious to the turmoil unfolding right in front of them. He almost felt bad for the man, but if he hadn’t been sticking his nose where it didn’t belong he could have avoided all of this. Then again if Hermione went missing today he was fairly certain he would go turn into a stalker as well. At least until he made sure she was still breathing.

“I wouldn’t call it that.” Hermione responded, a borrowed sneer etched into her face. She did subversion well. Any other time he may be proud of her.

“You two deserve each other. I think I will get out of here before the madness infects me.” He stared pointedly at Draco and he felt his heart drop. He must have clenched something too hard judging by the quick intake of breath beneath him. “After all, it runs in the family.”

Potter turned and stalked off into the crush of people, not acknowledged or even noticed. The club once again became a din of music and shouting.

“Hermione I-” Draco started unsure of how to say it. More than an apology was in order if she would just let him live that long. He may have already screwed this whole friendship thing up.

“Not now.” She muttered quickly folding in on herself turning back into his chest. She was shivering, her breath coming in ragged pants. He rested an unsure hand on her back just in time to catch Potter shooting him a killing glare from the door before stalking over to a familiar redhead to mutter something.

“Let’s get out of here. Before the cavalry arrives.” He responded with finality pulling her towards the staff apparition point. He and the boys had needed the spare escape route often enough that employees didn’t even blink at them anymore.

“But Blaise and Theo-” He didn't look back when he heard the first sniffle. He couldn’t handle it right now. Not in the grimy mob of bodies that was this disastrous night. 

He finally pushed past the bar, dodging into a plain white room with a red carpet. He quickly pulled them to the apparition point outside of her workshop. It was actually the back alley he had been ejected too when she pushed him out of her fireplace. The realization of how far they had come in all of this struck him to a standstill. Funny how you go from being forcibly expelled from a witches fireplace to calling her first persona a mudblood to her face. Well actually, that seemed quite natural progression.

A siren sounded in the background, breaking his thoughts. The cold winter air clouded their breath, little puffs shrinking in size the longer they stood there. They were both silent, just taking the moment to process what had happened. When she exhaled deeply he forced himself not to grab his wand. Whatever she sent at him he would take it.

“Upstairs.” Was all she said. Her small feet barely made a sound as they tapped the pavement, walking to the bricked up deadend. A door materialized as she reached for it, opening up to a thin rickety staircase. He followed sullenly, snapping the door shut behind him. At least if he died tonight Potter would be the top suspect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huldra:  
> Huldra are beautiful forest spirits of Scandinavian folklore. The are frequently kind to coal miners, watching over kilns when the miners fall asleep. 
> 
> Lady Vosin:  
> A real french witch/ fortune teller by the name of La Vosin. She catered to the aristocracy by offering love potions, fertility treatments, fortune telling, magical amulets, and poison. A fascinating character really.
> 
> Drink menu:  
> Oclotonic and gin: Changes eye color with each sip  
> Giggle water: (Canon drink) it literally causes burst of giggles when drank.  
> Cinnamon Snap: Smells heavily of cinnamon, causes a loud cracking sound when thrown back as a shot.


	36. A Table Turned

She was shaking as the lights roared on in her house. The brightness seemed too cheerful and distinct at the moment. She heard the door shut behind her and dematerialize away just as the teapot came wheezing in. She waved it away with a bit more force than necessary, slamming it into the table with a crack and causing it to spill everywhere.

“Shite.” She breathed out in a voice far too shaky and unstable to be her own. She instantly kneeled to the floor, carefully picking at the pieces. “I ruin damn near everything, don't I?”

“ _ Reparo _ .” He muttered quietly, a light shiver trailing down her spine. She was intent on gathering up the remaining shards of clay when the ceramic shook before shooting back together like a magnet. The teapot shivered briefly before disappearing back into her kitchen. She shot Draco a grateful look as he carefully slid his wand back down his sleeve.

“Thank you.” She managed to mutter out.

“Come sit.”He responded awkwardly as he reached out for her arm. She stared blankly at his hand pressed against her wrist before standing. The glitter enchantment had worn off at some point, if Harry had looked down he would have seen the scar and known exactly who she was. She had forgotten how thin of a curtain she hid behind. When she was with Draco she let herself be normal- no, reckless. It was dangerous and she would do well to remember that.

He guided her over to his couch and set about adjusting her into a seated position. She knew where things were supposed to go and how her body was supposed to move but for some reason her commands just weren’t working. She felt the cool velvet of his magic slide over her skin, a cleaning spell wicking away the grime. She would have felt guilty about how much it calmed her while clearly causing him discomfort if she didn’t remember a similar situation last year. Something had set him off just as bad as seeing Harry had for her. She never did find out what it was though. Maybe he would tell her now.

“Do you need anything? Water? Tea?” He questioned carefully. She realized vaguely that she had been staring at the floor for a set moment.

“Oh, uh no. I am uh… no.” She wasn’t okay. Not even close. But then again he didn’t ask. She thought she was past the falling apart stage. She had become so stable, so confident in her barely there lifestyle she had forgotten how easily it all rushed back. She resolutely kept her focus on her hands, cataloging the small scars that littered her skin like tally marks. It would keep her from slipping too far, she should pick something difficult to brew.

“I’ll head out. I get it if you don’t want to see me again. Don’t worry we can tell Potter that you went back to Spain. Between the three of us I am sure we have enough properties to send him on a goose chase.” He was rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, his white shirt had a splash of pink splattered across it and she wondered if it was her drink. She didn’t remember putting it down after all. She would have to scourgify for him. It would be rude not to.

“Right then. Well… For what it’s worth I am sorry. I know you probably don’t care or it doesn’t matter but...yeah.” He finished awkwardly before meeting her eyes. He looked terribly disturbed by something, but she couldn’t pick out what. “Nice knowing you, Granger.”

As he turned, intent on the floo a small part of her brain managed to scream to alertness.“What? Wait.”

He froze stiffly reaching for the powder. She mildly wondered how many times she had seen that exact pose. His thin from frozen mid stride, arm outstretched reaching for a palmful of powder. His back was beautifully angled, even through his shirt, the bones of his shoulder blades cutting into his shirt as the tension tangled in his muscles. Even as the fabric tapered to his waist she could still see the various muscles in his ribs twitching as he breathed.

“I guess that would be too easy. Okay go ahead.” He turned to face her with eyes shut and his body tense. She stared at the stance for a moment, remembering being curled into his chest. Sure enough, there was a smudge of her dark red lipstick right above his heart. What prick wears white to a club, honestly. 

“Well?” He asked, cracking open an eye.

“Are you okay?” She questioned cautiously. She didn’t feel like she could be very supportive in the moment but if he was off to do something reckless she would feel responsible. At best, he would probably blow something up, at worst that something may be the Minister of Magic. What a shite night for both of them.

“Am  _ I  _ okay?” The tension in his shoulders released a hair, confusion blanketing his face instantly. “Aren’t you going to curse me?”

“No!” She responded instantly, horrified at the thought as her brain finally returned to her body in full. “Why would I want to curse you?”

“Well… after I said…” He trailed off. It took a moment before she was able to pick up his meaning. “You’ve hexed me for less.”

She forced down her visceral reaction to the idea. Her expression must have cooled regardless judging by his resulting flinch. She did her best to keep her tone flat. “I will only hex you if you meant it. Did you mean it?”

“Merlin, No!” He corrected so quickly it was almost comical. The reaction allowed her to breath again, the anger and fear still curled lightly around her heart but fading. If she was honest with herself a small part of her did wonder if he still did still hold on to his prejudice, even if they were friends. There were always exceptions to the rule when it was convenient. She didn’t think she could bear knowing the answer if it was true.

“Oh, honestly! How delicate do you really think I am?” She huffed. It was easy to be offended and upset. It pushed other thoughts to the back of her mind. She leaned into it focusing on reacting like she normally would, letting her emotions guide her.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He questioned cautiously, his eyebrow slightly raised.

“You said what you had to and I know you don’t mean it. So it’s fine. Drop it.” She pinned him with a deeply exasperated look. He was still frowning but at least all of the tension had leaked away from his shoulders leaving them in a relaxed slump.   
  


“But I felt you tense.” He argued weakly, only trying to convince himself. It was exhausting honestly. They had a long night full of near missed and quite frankly she really didn’t want to deal with his self loathing tonight. She had her own to wrestle with.

“It was a tense situation! Why do you constantly think I am going to abandon you at the slightest infraction?” She shot with a bit more venom than she had intended. His measured glance spoke volumes. After a moment she sighed, curling back in on herself. The fear was overcoming her, laced with the exhaustion she had nothing left to give. “I don’t want to fight. I just... Thank you... for interfering. While not exactly the most tactful response I can hardly argue with results.”

“I don’t do well under pressure.” He responded mutely staring at her ceiling. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Yes... I don’t know.” She responded watching him from under her eyelashes. She felt obscenely fragile at the moment and for some reason he was the superglue holding the trapeze act she was performing together.

“Want me to sit here until you decide?” He questioned with a sigh.

“Yes please.” And she really did. It had been so long since she had someone she could just exist with. She felt no shame in using him at all, it was only fair really.

He moved to take the couch opposite hers. A small noise of protest escaped her voice and he froze regarding her with a calculating stare. Finally he sighed and shuffled over to sit next to her on the couch, lightly patting her back. After an awkward moment she let herself fall onto his shoulder and he grumbled in defeat. She needed an anchor and if he was willing to be one for the night then she would take it. It wasn’t like she had many other choices.

“You know… I have noticed you’re very kind when you’re drunk.” She murmured lightly, her temple resting against the skin of his neck. The warmth sent a smoothing wave through her body. His arm squeezed her shoulder lightly. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“I’m not drunk, Granger.” He murmured, risking a light pat on her head. It made Hermione feel like some sort of cross between a child and a dog. “But still don’t tell anyone.”

000000000000000000000

He took in the lightly breathing witch leaning against him in a mix of anger and pity. Her pale skin had lightly tanned in spite of the winter season. All the outdoor trekking they did together was probably responsible for it. Almost immediately after she fell asleep he removed the glamore on her. It felt wrong looking down and not seeing the same face he had spent months working with. If she just hadn’t gone with tonight… If Theo had put her in some Godrick be damned real clothes… 

With a silent groan he shimmied out from underneath Hermione. A quick glance at her watch put the time at 3:30 am. The boys had no doubt disappeared shortly after them and would probably be worrying about him. Then again maybe not, they seemed to put more faith in the witch keeping him in line than she deserved credit for.

As he made for the floo Hermione repositioned on the couch, rolling in a violent twist before frowning. He paused, taking in her sharply turned neck and coiled-up body. She would certainly hurt in the morning if she slept like that.

“Meeeerrrooowww.” Crookshanks brushed up against his knees purring happily. The cat merely blinked at him before moving over to sniff his owner.

“Well, she’s the one who fell asleep on the couch.” He huffed to the cat. The creature’s bright yellow eyes regarded him intelligently. “What do you want me to do about it?”

The cat seemingly understanding him popped up onto his feet and wandered over to the library. With another yowl Draco heard the ladder from her loft clack into place.

“You cannot be serious.” He groaned as the cat held his gaze before jumping up to the loft. With a sigh he glanced at the witch curled up crookedly. He was not a prince. He did not save damsels in distress. But then again Granger was hardly a damsel. Just a young witch who had too much to drink on a bad night. Maybe… just this once, he could be the good guy.

Another yowl sounded insistently, causing the object of his dilemma to shift, this time settling her weight on her shoulder and arm. It was definitely going to fall asleep at some point. With a groan he gave one last glance at the floo before lightly stepping toward her.

“Granger?” He whispered to no avail. “Hermione?”

The witch turned to him in her sleep, barely breaking the pattern of her breathing. With a sigh he pulled out his wand. Before he cast the levitation spell he paused. As someone who had been on the receiving end of levitation sickness while drunk he could easily say that was not anything he wished to repeat.

With a groan he half hoped would wake her up he shuffled closer, taking in her barely covered limbs and wildly damp curls. Giving himself the best chance for getting her up there unhexed he removed the transfiguration on the clothes letting them fall back to the jumper and joggers from earlier. Taking a deep breath he slid his hands to hook under her knees and behind her shoulder.

Now, Draco was aware he was not a strong man. He leaned more on the side of thin and lean than athletic. However when he scooped her up she was lighter than he expected, lighter than she should be. He made a mental note to tease her into eating more, maybe something about her hair being half her weight. It was probably true anyway. She felt so small wrapped in his arms as he carefully guided her over to the loft. Without her loud mouth and domineering personality to take up all the space in the room she felt so… slight.

He carefully adjusted his hold as he made his way up the steeply slanted ladder to her bed. He had only been up there once when he slept through the potion brewing for Blaise’s arm. He let her slave away all night while he slept on the most comfortable cheap mattress in the world. He was such a jackarse sometimes.

Shuffling down to his knees he rolled her lightly into bed. Her body unfolded and the cat pushed against his hand while purring gently. He pat the creature on the head softly before withdrawing his arm. He nearly jumped from the loft when her hand grabbed at his retreating sleeve.

She mumbled something quietly in her sleep, something he was only vaguely able to make out. With careful fingers he unfolded her grip and slunk down the ladder and out the floo. He was fervently repeating over and over in his head he hadn’t heard the word ‘stay’.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Hermione woke the next day with no recollection of how she had managed to stumble back into bed and only a minor headache. There was also the overall sense of feeling like a coward who hid behind Draco hoping he would take care of her problem. That part stung a bit but as she said last night, there is no arguing with results.

With a sigh she rolled out of bed, patting Crookshanks on the head before she set about readying for her day. The store in Istanbul had a nasty imp infestation and she had to draw up a cooling potion to kick them out. By the time she had finished with it the sun was high in the sky. 

A bell chimed above the plaque reading Istanbul and she threw the bottle into the floo calling out the name of her shop. The bell silenced, draping the room in mid morning air. As she mused about the implications from the previous night a thick and heavy paper fell into her mail basket. Very rarely did she ever get any papers delivered, choosing instead to read them at the cafe below once a week.

With a somewhat suspicious hand she picked the paper up gingerly. The front page was shouting some nonsense about a dust storm in Pakistan that had been supposedly caused by out of control elementals. With a fresh pot of tea she settled down and began flipping through the periodical.

She was halfway through breakfast when she finally spotted the page marked in red ink. A note was scrawled across the right half of the page in ever familiar handwriting. 

_ We weren’t sure it would ever make it but here you are. I present to you your brainchild. Pardon the fact we were unable to get it done before Christmas. _

_ -DM….AND THEO HI!!!!!!! _

_ P.s. Blaise is also here but less pushy with the quill. _

Hermione smiled as she scanned the article. It was a fairly dry piece discussing the release of Elixir of Lucidity. Already there were heavy backers supporting her name-making potion singing praises about it’s ‘pleasing’ effects. Unsurprisingly a few healers at St. Mungo’s were excitedly yammering on about the various clinical uses. 

She sipped her tea and glanced around the dusty old room. She smiled to herself. Maybe today could be a good day.

0000000000000000000000000000000

Draco grimanaced at the unlovingly scrawled note that had flown in with the morning post. He sighed glaring at the official ministry header, cursing his poor timing.

_ Draco Malfoy, _

_ You are requested at the Claims Office: Copyright Knowledgeability Sector in regards to the creation and marketing of Elixir of Lucidity. _

_ Please arrange a meeting by 7:00 am by the latest. _

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

It took all of his decorum not to slam the door stomping out of the Claims Office. Blaise followed behind him in a much more controlled movement. The men went step for step until arriving at the public floos. The crowds parted to avoid the legendary ire of the Malfoy heir, a fact that made it easier to move but more likely to draw attention. By the time they managed to limp to his apartment he was practically fuming.

“Very subtle Draco.” Blaise drawled snatching a sandwich that Pinky placed delicately on the table. “I am sure no one noticed your reaction at all. Certainly no one who has access to the readership of thousands.”

“I don’t give a damn.” He growled out running his hand through his hair. Draco was exhausted, even after getting home and firecalling the guys to let them know he was alive he rolled back and forth for hours in bed replaying their confrontation with Potter.

“Well I do.” Blaise scoffed as he kicked his legs up on the legs of Draco’s couch. “We knew this would come up. Why were you so surprised?”

“I didn’t expect them to treat it like she was dead!” He groaned pacing back and forth like a caged animal. It had been awful listening to them debate for hours and hours about if Hermione Granger had any posthumous right to her potion. Nevermind that he had the recipe and ensured all the paperwork was legal. Suddenly the board was saying her heir had the right to the claim. Considering the lack of children in her workshop Draco was fairly certain they meant inheritors. And there was only one person he could think of who would bother going about it this convoluted and bureaucratic way.

“Well most people think she is.” Blaise responded tartly. “It’s not like she goes clubbing with them on the weekends. It makes our life and hers easier if everyone assumes she’s dead. What’s the problem?”

“This has Potter written all over it.” Draco huffed. 

“Just shag the man and be done with it!” Blaise groaned tiredly, ignoring the venomous glare sent at him. “Look, he has no reason to begin sniffing around you anymore. Just stay off his radar and don’t piss him off.”

Draco winced and Blaise’s eyes narrowed. The dark skinned wizard growled. “What?”

“Well you know how me and Hermione disappeared last night?”

“Are you really about to detail me with how you shagged Granger?” Blaise rolled his eyes humorlessly.

“That’s not-” Draco started only to be cut off.

“I know.” He scoffed. “As if she would let you. What happened?” 

“Well… Potter showed up.”

“At the Menagerie?” Blaise questioned with his eyes brow raised, clearly doubting the credibility of his narrator.

“Weasley was there too I think.”

“Ah, makes more sense.” Blaise dragged his hand down his face with an exasperated sigh. “Did you antagonize him?”

“Well…” Draco stalled thinking back at the flaring emotions across Potter’s face. “Define antagonize.”

“Great. Just bloody great. I have so much work to do now.” Blaise growled stalking off towards the fireplace. “Look, Draco. If you can’t keep her under the rug she can’t be around us. I am serious. If this story breaks or Potter finds out about it we’re all done for. Don’t get me wrong. The witch is a trite bit of fun to be around. But she’s not worth risking your reputation… and ours for that matter now that we are complicit.” 

“She fixed your arm.” Draco supplied watching his friend waver in his living room. After a few moments of silence he spoke again.

“And I am grateful. But if people start digging they’ll find out how it really happened and what you did. They’ll find out about Theo timeturners and any other secrets we don’t want public. Okay?” Blaise eyed him meaningfully and Draco thought of his mom, panicked and scared being hounded by photographers and journalists.

“I have to run damage control. Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” The other man made to step into the flames when some horridly noble part of Draco bubbled up.

“You don’t have to.” Blaise stopped mid-stride regarding Draco with interest. “You’ve done more than enough for me. I could set you up with a nice pension, or reference if you want to keep working. I know you have been all but stuck with me for the past few years but... If you want to be elsewhere… If you are tired of all this.”

He trailed off not sure what else to say. Blaise scoffed, crossing his arms. “You’re so fucking dramatic.”

“I just thought-”

“I’m not going anywhere, Draco.” He huffed eyeing Draco in a way that felt horribly invasive. “Stop trying to push the people around you away.”

“I’m just offering.” He muttered quietly, the words sounding a bit too similar to hers.

“Offer rejected. I have work to do, get cleaned up. You need to go visit your mother today.”

With a flash of flames he was gone, a stark reminder of what a mess Draco had gotten them into. To make matters worse, he wasn’t quite sure he fancied finding a way out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Levitation sickness:  
> The result of levitating wizards. It is similar to car sickness but more rapidly onset. This would be why most wizards prefer brooms for their upward mobility intentions.
> 
> Claims Office: Copyright Knowledgeability Sector  
> The office is a horrible mess of paperwork and fines dedicated to sorting out disputes over ownership of various intellectual works. This is an expressly annoying fact considering that intellectual property does not exist in Wizarding Britain in most cases. Most frequently they just exist to hear themselves talk.


	37. A Unknowning Ally

When Draco stepped out of her fireplace a few days later with a troubled look on his face she drew her wand. He cocked a half smile before holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“I am unarmed.” He chuckled lightly. She slowly lowered her wand eyeing him carefully.

“You blew up my couch last time you walked in here while upset.” She mused lightly.

“It’s an ugly couch.” He shrugged, throwing himself in his usual spot. “This one is much better.”

“Well since you are always lounging about on that one then you can see why I need the spare.” She all but hissed as she continued to gather materials. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Am I not welcomed?” He questioned cocking an eyebrow at her.

“Of course you are.” She sighed, shooting him a glare. “I just thought that with your great success you would be having a roaring party by now.”

“And that I wouldn’t invite you?” He pouted, Hermione nearly choked when she realized it was coming across as quite charming.

“No offense but I don’t think I will ever be going out with your friends again. The first time I was hung over for days. The second time I almost had my cover blown. Let’s avoid any back alley escapes in the future.”

“Ah.” He winced and she felt the slightest bit guilty. “Again I’m-”

She cut him off quickly before he could strangle out another apology. She was starting to prefer when he was an insolent cur who was too good to ask for forgiveness. “Thank you. For getting me out of there and for getting me home.”

“Wasn’t so bad.” He shrugged slightly looking up into her rafters, seemingly coming to a decision. “It’s not a good story unless you have to sneak out the back.”

“I read the Skeeter article this morning.” He winced and she did too, fully aware it was her drawing attention to the whole shenanigan that sprouted the rumors. Right there on page four of The Prophet she almost spit out her coffee reading about the love triangle between Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, and one Mia Merago. Ginny was probably raging and she was never leaving the house with black hair again.

“I didn’t.” He cocked a lazy grin at her. “My receptionist set the whole paper on fire before it even touched my desk this morning. Blaise had to read me his copy over the fire, in between rounds of riotous laughter.”

“Is she after you or Harry?” Hermione asked lightly leaning on her work table. The whole situation was ridiculous and surprisingly she was finding quite a bit of humor in it.

“I mean if you read the article she is probably after Mia. Girl gets around, didn't you hear.” Hermione snorted as the lithe man rolled himself off his couch. “I thought I would lay low for a while. I cancelled all my appointments and came to bother you. Apparently you’re a hell-cat in bed.”

“Don’t you, and I do mean this in the worst way possible, have something useful to do? Like your job?” She questioned boredly, trying to cover the flush of warmth at the statement. There was a shift in mood, falling somewhere between serious and tense, it sent a shiver down her spine.

“Please. I have made my fortune five times over. Work is just something to do now.” The floorboard creaked under his weight as he stalked over. She felt her pulse pick up as she watched him, every instinct telling her not to let him out of her sight.

“Then go do it.”

“For some reason, I don’t really want to.” He drew up uncomfortably close to her and Hermione felt distinctly small and prey-like. His eyes were staring down at her curiously, his mouth pulled into a tight line as he examined her as if trying to figure something out.

“You’re looming.” She spit out avoiding his gaze, though she wasn’t sure why.

“Am I?” The question was rhetorical, the words rolling off his tongue in a smooth velvet. 

“You are.” She huffed drawing herself up to full height with a defiant glean in her eye as she met him with a challenge. “If you want something from me, prostration is usually more effective.”

He chuckled, the breath lightly tickling against her eyelashes. With a quick step back cold air flushed against her face and she felt her shoulders relax. “This is the best I’ve got considering I blew up your couch last time.”

“Well looming is better than homicidal.” She huffed, grabbing her bag. “What are you pissed about now?”

“Fucking Potter. He’s up to something.”

“Oh god not this again!” Hermione groaned, flashes of fifth year danced across her vision. “You sound just like him back in school. ’Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater… he’s evil... he’s up to something’.”

“To be fair, he was right.” Draco shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Dumbledore was much more suspicious at the time and his action had much further reaching consequences.” Hermione all but growled thinking of the previous headmaster.

“Woah. Golden girl has turned on the benevolent leader.” He mocked. “Call the press!”

“He did the best he could with what he had.” She sighed, cooling immediately. The intricacies of the game they played as children were mostly lost to time. Noone could really say what the right moves would have been in hindsight. “I just really wish he had a better option than a group of three children and a teenager going through a midlife crisis.”

Draco’s guffaws were hidden in his hand as he caught himself. “Right well. I am pissed because apparently Potter holds the copyright to your elixir and is fighting us on it.”

“What?!?” She screeched, sending Crookshanks diving off the armchair and making Draco wince. “How?!?”

“Well according to the Copyright Claim Board you are dead and I’d assume Potter is in your will?” He quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Which is an interesting topic within itself? Did I hit a bit too close to home on that ex-partner line?”

“Once again Harry and I were not a thing. You seem to have an obsession with the man though. It’s okay, Draco, you don’t have to hide your true feelings around me.” She mocked, the poisonous glare he returned made her snicker. “But, last I checked I am not dead. 

“That’s what I said. Regardless it won’t matter. Intellectual rights don’t really exist in Wizarding Britain.” He sighed rubbing the back of his head in frustration. “The thinking being if you didn’t want anyone to make and market it you shouldn’t give them the recipe.”

“And of course he’s pissed at you from the other night and is trying to annoy you.” She groaned, leaning on the table. “Mature.”

“I’ll get him back though” He smirked evilly. “I’ve decided to put a sleeping cat on the label. A red one.” 

“Must you antagonize him?”

“I must.” She sighed, tossing a balled up scrap of parchment at him. “What is more cozy than a drowsy kitten?”

“Fine.” She huffed pushing forward and gliding past him. He sputtered dramatically as she felt her hair brush against his chest. “I'm heading to Agraba for some shopping, you can meet Ali.”

000000000000000000000000000

When Draco first saw Harry again he thought it was a coincidence. He was at the ministry pushing through the paperwork on the Elixir. A new set of laws passed through requiring a new bottle color for all sleep based potions released after a certain date. That date just happened to coincide with the month before the Elixir was released. His malachite-touched glare locked onto Draco from across the lobby and didn’t leave him until the flames of the floo overtook his vision. 

The second time was a bit stranger but could easily be passed off as coincidence. He and Blaise had left his office to have lunch at a local takeaway spot. He saw the flash of dark hair first and was able to control his reaction appropriately. By the time Harry Potter popped into the restaurant he was paying the check.

The third time was enough to warrant severe concern. After a long day at the office Draco had apparated to the alleyway by Hermione’s with visions of spending the next few hours couch lounging on his mind. Suddenly, he froze in his usual pathway to her door overcome by an immediate need for a pastry. On a turn of his heel he wandered over to the cafe across the street as if it had been his original destination. Not five minutes after sitting down he saw Potter drift by with a scowl. He was being followed.

That in and of itself was nothing new. Draco had a trace on him since the war and spent the first year afterward carefully monitored by a variety of aurors. What was strange was that the Minister of Magic somehow found time in his day to follow Draco across London with unerring accuracy after he had been released from 

With a sigh he stared out the window of his balcony towards his pool. It had gotten so boring without his visits to Granger’s to break up the monotony of London winters. It was rain and slush followed by cold wind and gray skies. He would kill for some sun, particularly for a beach. He wondered if Granger owned a bikini. He really should invite her over for a swim. Damn it, he was actually starting to miss her presence. It was just something so interesting in the otherwise bland interactions of his life. He had never noticed how everyone just cowed to his desires, how no one challenged him on any thought or action. Even Blaise and Theo mostly went with the flow, only offering a correction on things that pertained to laws and regulations. There was no fire in them, not like she had.

He forced himself back onto his train of thought. It was pointless to have the pool out on the roof considering it was always so damn cold in London but it was still out there nonetheless taking up more space and effort than it was worth. He may as well purchase some heating charms to make it useful year round. Then again he would probably have to start hosting pool parties. Which if Hermione did have a bikini  _ and _ was kind enough to wear it she would be eyed by every guest and he couldn’t have that. It would be way too much attention.

He was contemplating just bricking the damned thing over when an incredibly small gray speckled owl with bright orange eyes landed deftly on the patio umbrella. The creature shook it’s feathers sending water droplets flying against the glass. With a sigh Draco opened the door and handed off an owl treat. It stuck its foot out excitedly, trying it’s best to nip at Draco when he moved to retrieve the parchment.

He shoo’d the bird away as he pulled the unmarked missive inside. Private post then. He had just broken the seal when he realized his salvation tended to come in the strangest of forms. This time in the case of one Ronald Weasley.

00000000000000000000000000

Part of him was wondering why in the hell he was actually waiting for Weasley in a muggle bar off of Carnaby Lane. The place was dark and low brow. It was too loud for polite conversation and to blue collar for anything actually fun to happen. And this is how Weasley found him, wrapped in a dark green jumper and muggle jeans from one of his fancy dress costumes, sulking at the end of the bar.

“Wasn’t sure you’d show.” Ron Weasley sat down on the stool next to him staring straight forward. It took every string of his willpower not to drop enough insults to bury the man right there.

“I wasn’t either.” He murmured over his rather rustic ale. The muggles had gotten back into natural beer making processes making them somewhat drinkable again. The bubbles formed a tight foam cap floating lightly on a creamy amber base.

“Well…” The red head trailed off as he met Draco’s eye’s in the mirror behind the spirits. He looked tired. His thick red hair had grown out to his shoulders and was pushed behind his ears. His freckled face was pale as always, with dark smudges under his eyes. Draco wondered if anyone over the age of 17 ever got any sleep or if this was just a shitty part of adulthood no one ever talked about. Auror training had moved the man from a gangly stalk to a fairly filled out fighter. The few scars populated his hands tipped his knuckles and appeared to be from good old fashioned brawls.

“Why did you call me here Weasley? I am finding it exceedingly difficult to be polite.” He huffed taking a large swig of the amber ale. It was about as diplomatic as he could manage.

“Could you just… not? This is plenty dodgy as is. I don’t need you taking the piss out of it.” Ron ordered a similar drink as Draco and they sat waiting for it to be delivered.

“Fine, you utter dunce. I am only here because I could not fathom what a cock-up like you would want with me. Although the atmosphere is plenty appropriate for someone of your… income.” Ron flared red, the tips of his ears flushing a familiar color.

“Fucking posh prick. Bet a toff like you would buy the whole place only to burn it down for ruining the view of your stroll.” Silence fell again as the beer slid in front of him. Something was very settling about the interaction. Draco was not exactly sure what was going to happen when he read the letter. He was interrupted by Weasley’s gravelly voice. “How do you feel about self preservation?”

“Malfoys are always game for self preservation.”

“Coulda fooled me.” Ron shot back heartily.

“Right, well. State your peace so I can get out of this bloody hell hole.”

“Fucking twat.” Ron shook his head but Draco could almost catch a smile as he threw back his drink. “‘S Harry.”

“It’s always fucking Potter. I know. Arsehole has been following me around all week.” He scoffed.

“Yup. That’ll be him. He seems to think you had somethin’ to do with ‘Mione’s disappearing act a few years ago…” Ron paused looking for a reaction. Draco elected to continue to stare at him like he was stupid. “And the fact she hasn’t come back.”

Draco ignored the twisting feeling in his stomach. It was pretty rich hearing the ginger act concerned considering how he hadn’t bothered to look into the girl in years. Hell, Potter was annoying but at least he still cared.

“Granger? This shit again.” He huffed trying to look thoroughly annoyed at being accused of something he was actually involved in. “Don’t care about the bint. Haven’t seen her since… well not since the trials.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Ron responded, visibly relaxing. “Look, Harry is my best mate. He has really got a hold on this theory of his and I don’t think he’s gonna let it go.”

“Since when did you become the voice of reason in the trio?” Draco shot with an eyebrow raised.

“Beats me. I just wanted to play quidditch and have parties. It was your lot that kept dragging us into blood magic and crack fairy tales.” Ron shrugged. “Just tell me flat out do you know what happened to ‘Mione?”

“No.” Draco answered honestly. He really had no idea why she disappeared or where she went. He didn’t really know all that much about Hermione Granger except from the past eight months. There was a lot of background he was still missing. Sure her favorite posies were the red ones and she learned to cook in a small village in Italy. But anything useful? No. He did know what was presently _ happening _ with her though, a small technicality.

“Right. Sorry.” The man sighed deeply. “ Look I get it. I really do. You’ve been doing some right decent things around war recovery. I know that you have turned over a new leaf and I'll be fucked, but I believe it.”

“Your confidence is heartwarming.” Draco responded, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck off, you’re still a git.” Ron gruffly snickered out. His face schooled back to something more serious as he stared at Draco in the mirror. “Look, I can’t figure out why he’s so obsessed with this. It’s eating at him alive and it’s not right.”

“Maybe he’s right.” Draco responded, doing some fishing of his own. “Who knows why she disappeared or where she went? Maybe she is locked in some Death Eater’s basement somewhere.”

“Naw.” Ron shook his head slowly. “She left a note on her bed the day she left. Took us bloody ages to find it with all the damn parchment scattered about the room. She left of her own free will.”

“And you are so sure?”

“Pretty sure ‘Don’t bother looking for me’ is pretty damn clear.” He responded flatly. It sounded like something she would write. Draco shook his head, trying to keep any thoughts from showing on his face.

“Well what do you want me to do about Potter’s obsession? It’s not like I am encouraging it.” Although maybe Draco was taking a bit more suspicious paths home lately. It was just so much fun watching the Minister trying to keep up without blowing his cover. Draco could have swore he heard the man scream in frustration when he apparated into Buckingham Palace… for the fifth time this week. The queen’s security team was getting plenty of drill work this week.

“I’m gonna give you some advice and suggest that you follow it. Not for your sake but for his.” Ron turned directly to him, meeting his actual eyes for the first time. The man looked serious, his blue eyes had grown cold after years rooting out dark wizards. “Get out of town. Not forever, just for a while. Let him calm down.”

“I can’t just leave.” Draco responded incredulously. “I have a company to run.”

“Take a vacation. Just a couple weeks until he gets distracted.”

“And that won’t look horridly suspicious I suppose?” Draco scoffed, tossing back his beer. 

“Won't matter; you’ll be clear of the fall out.” He shrugged, turning back to the mirror. “I know you’re mostly a decent guy, well, as much as someone like you can be. But I also know that your mum’s not in a great place. Do you really want to be drawing attention to that?”

“The fuck did I do?” Draco growled choosing to glare into his empty cup.

“He thinks you got ‘Mione and that’s good enough.” Ron leaned back slightly. “Not sure why he thinks she would be slumming around with you though.”

“Piss off.” Draco growled as he stood. “Why do you care? So Potter obsesses over me for a few months. Big deal.”

“Big fucking deal.” Ron snarled back. “Because if he obsesses he will find  _ something _ . Then he’ll drag me into it. Then that god damn obsession will be all over the papers and Ginny will get upset and run crying to mum. Then he will be too busy to take care of Lolo. Then I will have to fetch it when mum gets on me about it and FUCK I hate that dog.”

“Glad to see you’re so selfless.” Draco rolled his eyes to cover his amusement as Ron muttered into his beer. “I am more of a cat person myself.”

“I am more of a nothing-that-pisses-on-my-rug person.” Ron chuckled humorlessly. “Anyway, they’re my family. I know you don’t have the same sort of mushy feelings about it that we do but I will do anything to help them. This just seems to be the least damaging path for everyone, including you.”

“Are we done here? I’d like to return to air that doesn’t smell like it’s been inside someone’s body.” Draco scoffed, pulling out a wallet.

“Yeah get outta here you cock. Maybe a vacation will help you pull that stick from up your arse.” Ron responded, ordering another. In a motion that he may regret later Draco dropped a handful of notes on the bar. He gestured towards Ron as the bartender approached. 

“This fucking twee drinks for the rest of the night.” He nodded with an begrudging respect for the red-head as the man tipped his beer lightly. He didn’t have to warn him, the least Draco could do was pick up the tab. Without another word he sailed back out into the night, thinking of where he was going to apparently be spending the next two weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Security Spells:  
> Hermione has a variety of wards and charms on her home to prevent notice. In this case when more than one person arrives at her apparation point (within a set range) it triggers a compulsion charm in warning.
> 
> Royal Connections: The queen is of course aware of the magical world. As such she has security wards to alert the guard to unwanted magical intruders. She has also been known to have tea with Lady Malfoy and her charming son in years prior though it has be awhile. Hopefully she will drop by again soon.


	38. An Odd Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am really quiet glad you all liked Ron's portrayal. I was really nervous that people wanted a true "villain" and were hoping Ron was going to be it. I have always figured that, while he was an objectively shitty dude as a kid, he tried to be a good friend and would eventually grow into a decent person.
> 
> In any event, Fic is done. It will be 50ish chapters. I still need to make edits an probably rewrite a scene I am having trouble with but if I die the SO knows to post it as is so you guys won't be left hanging. You're welcome. Enjoy.

Hermione agreed readily enough when Draco brought up that Harry had been following him. She could have sworn she saw a familiar dark head of hair floating around the cafe the other day while she read the news. It had been setting her on edge, but this had just pushed her into panic overdrive. Suddenly the idea of being as far away from London as possible sounded wonderful. Besides it wasn’t like she couldn’t work from anywhere, she was a witch after all. She hated packing though. 

A large brown trunk was sitting in the middle of her living with various objects flying into it. Larger items like cauldrons shrank as they bumbled into the case while other items like ingredients needed a quick statis charm cast on them to ensure their freshness. As the last set of mortars floated jauntily into the luggage the leather snapped shut and shrunk itself down into a small briefcase.

She was casting the first of many featherlight charms on the case when her floo roared to life. Draco stepped out looking a bit too pleased with himself only to scowl at his missing couch.

“You packed a couch… really?”

“You love that couch.” She scoffed as she continued to layer the charms. “I didn’t want anything happening to it while I was gone.”

“It’s ugly as sin.”

“Who are you trying to convince?” She huffed, tying off the tidy spellwork with a flick of her wrist. Another general stasis charm directed at her remaining ingredients had all the open drawers clacking shut at once and the cheery fires dying down as her workshop went into a peaceful hibernation. Crookshanks grumpily jumped down from the loft only to meander over to meet her at the floo with a great yowl. 

“Suli’s parlor.” Hermione stated as she tossed the powder into the flames. The flared green and the cat wasted no time walking directly into the warmth. Suli loved cats and had agreed to keep an eye on him until she got back. Hermione expected him to be no less than a kilogram heavier when he returned.

“Are you ready to go?” He questioned as the cat faded away with the swish of his long tail.

“Yeah I am heading out now.” Hermione picked up her case, only mildly grunting under the weight of everything she owned.

“Where are we going? I hear Las Vegas is a cracking good time.” Hermione started as she eyed his person.

“We? I don’t remember inviting you.” She huffed, looking him up and down. He smirked, opening up his stance confidently and she rolled her eyes. “You don’t even have anything packed.”

“Well of course we. Someone has to keep you alive.” He scoffed as if it was obvious. “And I have my basics in my pocket. Some of us can afford a much more compact expansion charm.”

“Isn’t the point of this whole thing to throw off suspicion of us being involved?” Hermione questioned, pushing down the bubbling excitement from the idea of having him tag along. As it was, she was just running away, if he came it would definitely fall into a fun leisure trip category. She was sure of it. It just took her a moment to realize how used to having someone around again she had become.

“Well first off we aren’t involved.” He drawled, scrunching his face up in disgust. “When you say it like that it makes me feel dirty. Second off the point of disappearing would be moot if I was going to any of my properties. It would take less than a day to locate me. So considering your the one with the undetectable bolt holes all over the world I figured I would just tag along with you. Where are we going?”

“Dirty? Excuse me?” She shot back, wiping away all images of a companionable holiday spent reading and chatting amicable. She had forgotten who she was speaking too. 

“You are excused and I forgive you for not inviting me. Where are we going?” She sighed. She supposed it was her fault he had to disappear for a while. And Harry was right, if he did some digging on the man he would probably find out everything anyway. It was her responsibility really and some company would be a nice change. Alright, she had talked herself into it.

“Fine. But you don’t get to complain, deal?” She huffed pulling out a portkey in the shape of a small screw.

“Deal.” He nodded, linking his arm in her’s as the portkey began to glow.

They landed with a thunk, the small piece of metal that served as a portkey glowed faintly before becoming a normal screw once again and falling onto the soft forest floor. The air smelled of deep pine and wet earth. All around them thick and heavy trunks rocketed towards the sky blocking out the sun. Creeping ivy was the only thing growing in the dark understory. Soft needles made up the floor in an endless expanse of light brown. An overarching sense of darkness hung in the branches. Danger sparked quietly across her mind, almost like it belonged there and she was the one intruding.

“Gloomy.” Draco supplied as he glanced around. It was chilly even for early April. She shivered lightly, pulling her robes tightly around her.

“Let’s go.” She set off at a quick pace towards a barely there path that meandered through the trees. As soon as her feet tapped lightly against the path she cast a quick point-me spell toward civilization. The shuffling of leaves and sticks breaking off to the right was enough to get them moving.

“Do you know where we are going?” Draco questioned as they passed more of the same landscape. He seemed jittery.

“We can figure it out.” She shrugged.

“Wait,” She heard his footsteps pause as she continued to stare at her wand turned compass. “you don’t know where we are do you?”

“Not exactly no.”

“But you made the portkey!” He hissed as a large bird took off in a flutter of wings, scrambling to keep up.

“Actually… the Ministry has a drawer full of portkeys that it doesn't remember the destination for. That drawer may have a very small, undetectable switching charm connected to my doohickey shelf.” Malfoy groaned realizing she wasn’t aware of where they had ported either. “The best way to disappear cleanly is to not even know where you are going.”

“That’s well and good until you ported us into the middle of some haunted woods.” 

“They aren’t haunted, don't be ridiculous.” Hermione scoffed immediately as she shot a suspicious glance behind them. It seemed far too dark for midday.

“I know dark magic when I feel it.” Draco rolled his eyes, his hand firmly holding his wand. “This place is permeated with it.”

“No one makes a portkey to nowhere. We are either by a muggle town or a wizard town so keep a sharp eye out. If we see any muggles we will have to restrict our magic immediately.”

“I should have just gone to Blaise’s villa in Italy. His mother would have taken me shopping.” 

“No complaining. You promised.” He grumbled as they walked. The point-me charm was practically vibrating as she cut off the magic. Up ahead the trees began to thin out, replaced by the lower level scrubs and bushes that couldn’t out compete the trees. She strode ahead happily, ready for anything.

When she pushed through the ticket she found a lightly beaten path trailing through the gentle curves of a hill and down to a picturesque small town. A small chapel poked out of the long grass at the base of their path before it widened into a proper stone walled street. She smiled slightly at the scene. When Draco joined her he came to a fairly quick conclusion.

“German. You can tell by the architecture.” He nodded towards the church as Hermione looked behindly at the foreboding towers of trees and the cloud of black waiting to swallow them back up. She gulped heavily.

“About the forest...” 

“It’s fucking haunted I told you.” Draco scowled in her direction.

“Not quite… I think we are in The Schwarzwald.”

00000000000000000000000000000000

He and Hermione quickly made their way down the path leaving the heavy dark aura behind them as they wandered up to the small village. A few loose goats met them at the town's edge before they meandered into the square proper. A small circular fountain was happily bubbling away in the center. The image of a kobold hammering some ore out of a rock shone brass in the sun. 

He turned to glance at the area around them only to be left disappointed. The town appeared to be composed of maybe 30 buildings, most of which appeared to be private homes. On the square was a general store, bakery, and tavern but that was it. There was no inn in sight and Draco dreaded the idea of camping. A woman burst from the door of a nearby house bustling along with a child in tow when she caught sight of them.

“Oh visitors!” She remarked happily, making her way over. “Pardon the emptiness, everyone is out prepping the fields for the spring planting. How are we doing today?”

The woman’s black dress fit tightly against her chest before flaring out in a wild expansion of frills and petticoats. Thick white puff sleeves were detailed with small red and green embroidery. Not any sort of wizarding dress he had ever seen. Shaking off the oddness of the situation Draco took charge. “Just fine thank you for asking. We are researchers, here to catalog some of the local legends of the Black Forest from villages just like yours.”

Hermione stepped forward quickly catching on. “Yes, we want to help preserve the oral culture of the more remote areas for future generations to come. If at all possible, we would love to speak with whoever is in charge.”

“How sweet they let you bring your sister along!” The woman remarked pulling her young son up to her hip. He repressed a chuckle as he felt Hermione bristle. “But, no one is in charge here. Too small a village to get all caught up on formalities. If it’s stories you’re after you’ll be wanting to join the men at the tavern after work hours.”

“That would most certainly serve.” Draco responded formally, hoping that he sounded academic. “Do you have an inn we could stay in?”

“No inns here. Who would visit? Well, I can see if anyone would put you up.” The woman offered. “May have to split you though.”

“Oh dear. That’s unfortunate.” Hermione responded with a vicious grin. “My brother is very protective of me you see. We don’t like to be separated.”

“Oh! Oh course! It would be improper otherwise. You’ll have to forgive me. I forget what you city folks are like.” The woman questioned glancing around their person curiously. “Where are your things?”

“Edge of town.” Draco responded. “Parked the whole lot over by the church.”

“Oh isn’t that just perfect.” The child squirmed out of her hold, clearly having no interest in being held. “Well it looks like I better go. Why don’t you all set up on the East side of town that a way? There is an old mill close enough to the water for convenience. It may need some cleaning and repairs but you are welcome to it.”

“Thank you.” Hermione bowed her head respectfully.

“Happy to help little mice. Now you hurry on over. You may be able to get it fixed up by the time the farm hands all come back down in a rush of hunger. Keep an eye on your sister though, it’s not often the men in this town have a new woman to court. If you need anything I’m-” The woman formed some sort of word before a buzzing sound hit his ear unpleasantly. He swiped a hand around his head to fend off whatever insect there was but saw nothing.The woman smiled before nodding her head and scurrying off about her business. 

Hermione nearly growled. When she turned to Draco he simply shrugged his shoulders and set off in the direction the woman had pointed, indeed not running into another living soul who wasn’t busy working on chores in their own households.

“Odd little place.” Hermione mused softly as they exited the town. Just off the main path the somewhat dilapidated structure of an old mill could be seen carving out a small plot right in front of the woods and alongside a small bubbling creek. A few guide stones were all that was left making the rough outline of a square.

“I am not sure we are qualified to judge that.” Draco smirked before frowning towards the rubble. “But I think we were oversold on this.”

“I’d say so.” Hermione scoffed, checking around to ensure they were alone. “Let me throw up a muggle repelling charm and we’ll get to work.”

Hours later they had managed to piece the original building back together following the previous template of stones and wood. He grumbled at the small size hoping it was larger once they stepped in or he would have to fight Hermione for what he hoped was at least a singular bedroom. The large water wheel creaked next to them, not that he had any hope of electricity. He felt surprisingly spry for the amount of magic they had spent fixing the hovel and felt more than prepared to set to work on the inside.

With a hard shove he shouldered open the door and stepped in. The thick wooden plank walls were still moss covered and thankfully appeared to keep most of the air outside. He was greeted by a dim single room with a stone hearth, the water wheel spinning a mortar for milling. He openly groaned. 

“It’s technically a shelter.” Hermione supplied helpfully sparking a fire to life in the hearth. She charmed the remains of an old table back together and began withdrawing things from her bag. ”And I have everything else we need.”

He cast a silencing charm on the mill and grimaced. He felt cautiously optimistic as she clicked open the case and various pieces from her home began to drift out. The nearly sighed in relief as a large bed plopped itself in the corner taking up most of the floor space. He threw himself back on it while she continued to unpack.

“Not bad Granger.” He conceded as he debated on a quick kip. “But where will you sleep.”

“What’s the matter Malfoy, don’t want to share?” She teased lightly and Draco felt his pulse jump. He fought down the blush uncomfortably. He wasn’t used to being flustered, it wasn’t like his other friends flirted with him. Well, Blaise did on occasion but that was hardly to say it meant anything. Blaise flirted with everyone.

“I am a snuggler and will not be held responsible for anything that my hands do in my sleep.” He yelped as half the bed gave out underneath him, effectively splitting in half. Grumbling he pulled himself up to spell some weather-proofing charms into the wall. By the time he was done transfiguring a single window onto the wall Hermione had set up the two beds, a small sitting area and a breakfast nook. He grimaced at the warm golds and rich reds that were splattered around the room. With a quick wave of his wand the colors shifted to a cooling silver and green.

“I was thinking that- Oh absolutely not.” Hermione huffed as she turned to see her new bed linens.

“What?” He questioned innocently frowning as she shot her bed back to gold and red. As soon as she turned to face him he returned it to much calmer colors.

“I am not decking this place out to be a cold and broody environment like your study. It’s bad enough dark magic is already hanging over this place like a thick curtain.” She shot his bed back to her colors before turning to the table again. He smirked as they shifted again.

“I am not living for two weeks surrounded by blood red and sunshine.” He scoffed smiling as she caught sight of the beds. She glared at him with anger sparking in her eyes and he chuckled.

“You will not win.” She responded holding up her wand menacingly.

And thus they spent the next few hours waiting for the work day to end. By the time a cease fire had been called the mill had been splattered with various shades of house colors and none of them looked halfway decent. A compromise was reached and they settled on an objectively nice silver and red combo before Draco decided to take that nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Destination portkeys
> 
> Highly regulated by the ministry. They have no time restraints and will trigger when pushed with magic. They have no limit on the people they can transport and as such require quiet a bit of magic to create. They are usually used for auror missions. As such they are unavailable to the public. No exceptions. (That they are aware of.)
> 
> The Schwarzwald 
> 
> Also called the black forest this stunning stretch of forest in the south west of Germany is one of the few remaining forest of antiquity, mostly filled with pine. It also has some cool geological features which I suggest googling. For this story though, it is also known as a hot spot for German folklore with a suspicious number of stories and mythologies being sourced from it.


	39. A Forgotten Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Traditional Dress:  
> The festive regional dress from the black forest is very... Red Riding Hood-y. The women frequently wore the black dress with white puff sleeves as described earlier along with a hat that had either black or red puff balls on it depending on their marriage status. Hermione wouldn't fold to wearing a dress while treaking everywhere so I contest she would take a traditional ranger outfit, more like the men of the time were wearing, while still retaining some basic tenants of the culture.
> 
> Magical Religion:  
> Considering how old wizardry is it only makes sense that many witches and wizards were actively part of the church community. There are many points in history where they would have been ostracized for being the only people in town not to attend church. In addition, many miracles of the saints were preformed by children (sub 18) and would line up perfectly with accidental magic. The Malfoys being french, have an even longer history with it than most considering France was developed by the Holy Roman Empire before England was.

He woke an hour or so later. Hermione was gone, an odd realization that forced him to get up. He wandered into town stopping by the store and bakery to gather enough provisions for the first few days. He wasn't quite sure what she had planned to do if they had walked the wrong way on the path. She didn't unpack any food. He couldn't exactly see her capturing little bunnies and cooking them into stew. With promises of a delivery and a nice tip he decided he only had one place left to look and headed down the road they arrived from.

He found her sitting in the small chapel on the edge of the woods. It was barely the size of a cottage with a single dark shingled steeple and a rusted bell he was sure no longer rang. The thick oak and iron doors were heavy under his hand as he pushed them open silently. He saw her immediately, sitting at the far left of the first of eight rows. While the church was not well maintained it held its own sort of beauty. The ceiling was crumbling in a few places with thick claws of ivy reaching toward the openings. Even the hardwood pews were falling in on each other, the damage of time and weather. The town clearly didn't see much use for religion.

Sun shown through the remaining stained glass window in mosaic of shapes and colors. They shifted across her hair as the shutters drifted imperceivably in the strong breeze, a riot of pale colors. As they fell on her skin he marveled at the delicate cast to her features. Her hair overtook most of her face but when she wasn't waving it around dramatically, subtly carved cheekbones peaked out under huge almond shaped eyes. Currently they were closed, with dark lashes brushing lightly against her skin. Her lips were thin and most often red from her chewing on them when she focused but he knew they could burst widely into a smile at a moments notice. For a breath, he just stared, unsure of why she had sought out the church but admiring the view nonetheless. It almost felt out of a painting. Breaking the trance he pushed himself forward on soft feet, careful not to disturb the quiet balance. He slid in the pew next to her, staring up at a rather graphic statue of a nearly naked man on a cross.

Instead of focusing on that he regarded her silently. She leaned forward into the light, her scar-flecked hands folded serenely in front of her, pressed lightly against her lips. She spoke mutely into them, her face occasionally scrunching as she thought. When she opened her eyes there was a certain finality to it.

"I didn't know you were religious." Draco responded, making her jump. She recovered quickly exhaling deeply. A smattering of pale red floated across her face as the stained glass drifted.

"I'm not."

"Weren't you just praying?"

"I am surprised you know what that is." She answered with a low laugh. "Do you know where we are?"

"Of course I do. Malfoy manor has a chapel not that different from this one just off the gardens." He shrugged thinking of the small steepled building that was, at this point, probably in a similar state of disrepair as this one. "We would sometimes have lunch in it."

"You didn't strike me as the god fearing type."

"Well the Malfoys are an old line." He reasoned, glancing at the statue with a shiver. "When the muggles began burning witches and wizards it helped to look like a very respectable god-fearing family. Miracles also provide a decent cover for accidental magic that was too big to cover up."

"Any saints in your family?" Hermione chuckled meekly as the patch of red drifted to a soft blue. The church bell was trying to sound, marking the half hour, the empty clicking echoing in the room.

"Hermione… why are you sitting in a church, looking so quietly tragic?" he questioned with a level of delicacy that surprised himself. Hermione paused, her hand gripped themselves tightly in her lap. He waited, letting her thoughts gather.

"Churches are good places to think. make you introspective." Draco wasn't sure he could agree. He eyed the dying man above them, pushing away the similarities of a distinctly not peaceful part of his life.

"This one feels wholly ignored and forgotten." His gaze lowered to a dented, tipped over goblet near the base of a crumbling alter.

"Do you think they're at peace?" She questioned so quietly he almost missed it.

"Depends on who you mean."

"The ones we lost…" He cringed slightly, both at the vagueness and topic.

"I would think so. Death is fairly absolute. They are as much at peace as anything else that no longer exists." He winced as she glanced down at her hands, guilt stabbing at him for his carelessness. Draco knew he had never been particularly good with words, at least ones that weren't scathing or clever. He set his hand lightly on hers attempting to offer a subtle comfort. The action was halting and awkward, a far step from his usual trained grace. "You'll have to forgive me. They didn't exactly teach us tenderness in the common room."

"You are what you are." Hermione shrugged watching their hands. When Draco focused on them he found it somewhat jarring to see they didn't look all too different. Both of their nails had been chopped short, hers had the remnants of a chipped polish while his were still stained black around the edges from working with squid sacks. Her skin was tanner than his but the matching injuries of their profession flecked the surface like pale freckles. His family ring was polished to a platinum sheen and seemed to overtake both their hands in both its size and symbolism. Hermione's forearm was bathed in a sickly green light highlighting her scar while the smudge of his own basked in a yellow glow. It somehow seemed terribly unfair that hers would never fade and his already had. When she spoke again he jolted, but maintained his hold. "I wish I could do everything over again. I wish I had more to give them other than a silly statue and some broken memories. When I see a church I just try to apologize and say goodbye again. Just in case anyone is listening."

"And you say you hate self-pity... You did what you could. The best you can do is keep living, move forward since they can't." He repeated the words Thanaius had told him years earlier robotically. Even knowing they didn't work.

"The hero worship was sickening. Even a year later." Hermione whispered staring into the distance with a haunted look in her eyes. Her voice dripped in a cruel mocking tone. "The golden girl, the brightest witch of her age. HA! Bullshite. I was worthless. I couldn't even save children from dying at the hands of a dictator."

"Fucking Heros, you always seem to find a way to blame yourself. Why do you think that was your responsibility? You were one of those children." He sighed out. "You are only one witch. Hell you could barely keep yourself and your friends alive. And, somehow, that was enough to save the world. Stop moping about the ones who slipped through the cracks, it wasn't your job."

"I couldn't save them." She trembled lightly under his touch.

"You can't save everyone."

"We saved you." She whispered, sliding her hand into his. His pulse jumped, caught in the unexpected statement. He supposed they had, but they had really saved everyone. For the thousandth time he so desperately wondered what their life would have been without being born into a half-won war.

"I am still a lost cause." He scoffed after a moment, stuck somewhere between truth and levity.

"No," She corrected almost immediately. A hard edge laced in her voice, garnering no arguing. "You're a good person. You were worth it."

She didn't meet his eyes and he didn't pull away as much as he disagreed. She was always too much of a bleeding heart for her own good. The silence fell in thick comforting waves around them as he peeked at her face. Even after all these years she still found room in her heart for those he had chosen to forget. She was not crushed by the grief but instead bore it like an old friend to walk beside. Even the light tears in her eyes dried, as if they recognized their purpose was spent and they had the decency to disappear.

Just like her heart, she was silently beautiful. He supposed she always had been and he'd just never noticed. It wasn't obvious, not in the way that turned heads, but in the way that you noticed when she sat in the sun, or while eating breakfast on a Sunday, or while lying in bed the morning after wondering when you had lost your heart and wondering if she even knew she had it. They sat in the pew until Draco was certain he would never see colors or churches the same way again.

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"Up." Hermione's voice broke through the peaceful morning with all the delicacy of first time apparition. He cracked his eyes open to see a fully dressed witch glowering at him from her side of the cottage. He was still recovering from the previous night. The town had been pretty suspicious of them until Draco so generously brought the first round. After that, everyone had an old family story to tell and Hermione had recorded it all dutifully. A heavy meal of game-meat and homebrewed mead sat heavily in his stomach, a bit rustic but all together pleasant.

"It's a holiday Granger. Holiday means sleep." He rolled towards the wall, content to return back into a rather delectable dream he had been having. The cold shock of the air bit into his skin as the thick quilt was ripped away from his body.

"Christ Malfoy! Put some clothes on." Hermione growled stalking over to the small breakfast nook. He glanced down at his boxers, clearly covering everything important.

"Not something I usually hear women scream in the morning. In any event, I'm covered. For someone who has apparently warmed beds across the globe you sure are prudish." He huffed as he stood making a point to stretch slowly. When she turned to retort she squeeked and twisted astutely towards the wall with a blush.

"Just because I don't mind it from my partners doesn't mean I want to see it from you. Get dressed, I'll stand here until you are done." She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her hip, clearly intending to hold her promise.

"The whole time?" He questioned with a smile. "Promise not to slip a peek?"

"I don't need to slip anything." Hermione scoffed. "You'd prance around naked as a jay-bird squawking at the top of your lungs if I let you."

"Now you're making me out to be some kind of voyeur." He chuckled, charming a pair of thick slacks out of his trunk and sliding them on.

"You said it, not me." She huffed to the wall. She had clearly changed out of the black robes from yesterday and slipped into a fiery red cape with field trousers and a hunter green vest underneath. Deciding it would annoy her deeply, he also charmed out a green silk shirt and a black cloak that he changed to a rich burgundy so deep it was almost black.

"Alright. You can stop averting your sensitive eyes, princess. My glorious body is covered but please, do contain yourself anyway." He smirked as her eyes took in the matching outfit with a snarl. Apparently deciding it wasn't worth the effort she tossed a plastic covered food bar at him and stalked out the door. Their delivery hadn't come yesterday so they had to dip into their store.

"Well you're in a mood today." He stated, easily catching up to her stride. The bar was crunchy in his mouth and tasted very similar to dirt. The packaging did promise it was a complete meal though.

"There's a problem in the village."

"What sort of problem?" Draco questioned suspiciously as they passed onto the road.

"Not sure. I heard a lot of shouting earlier but had to wait for you to get presentable."

"You could have filled me in." He sighed taking larger bites. "I would have moved faster if I knew it was serious."

"Not sure it is." Hermione finished quietly as they approached the village. Draco eyed the free roaming goats that had been shuffled in towards the square as a large group of men and women crowded around the fountain talking over each other.

"I am telling you! I saw it with my own eyes!"

"Nearly drowned poor-!" Draco flinched at the buzzing sound as Hermione swatted around her head.

"Stop fooling around!"

"What's going on?" Hermione questioned, to an old crone rocking in a chair by the town shop.

"Something happened out by the river." The matron supplied slowly watching as a pair of men jostled against each other. The woman regarded Hermione carefully. "You must be new in town."

"We just arrived yesterday. What sort of something?" Hermione questioned a bit too loudly as a nearby group turned to her.

"Nothing you strangers have to worry about." The kind woman who had pointed them to the mill on arrival answered. She quickly turned back to the man at the center of the argument. "There are no spirits floating around here so stop your laze abouting and head back to work."

"I saw it!" The large red-head growled. He was coated in a light sheen of dirt and had the arms of a bear. "Straight out of the water. Clear as the day."

"What was it?" Hermione questioned even as Draco pinched her side, warning her to stay out of it.

"It was a Nixe!" He shouted wildly. "No less than 20 hands tall and the longest mane you have ever seen."

"Keep your bed time stories of haunted horses to yourself." Another man supplied from the crowd.

"Oh hush up." The old crone responded sharply, silencing the group. "Go back to work. All of you!"

There was a quiet murmuration as various footsteps wandered out of town. The old crone shuffled to her feet laying a comforting hand on the shaken man's back. "Let's get you some warm cider. I'll tell you a story."

Hermione rose her hand toward the duo. Before she could utter a word Draco pulled her back harshly. She turned on him prepared to shout when Draco quickly pulled her aside.

"What's your problem?" She hissed.

"You were about to throw yourself into a quest, Granger. I can see it sparking in your eyes."

"Aren't you curious?"

"Aren't you?" Draco growled back pulling her close to his face. Her eyes flickered with anger, their deep amber sheen reminding him of firewhiskey. "Think about it. You are the one most familiar with the muggle world."

"So?" She huffed looking very much annoyed. "I don't see the issue."

"Last I checked most muggles didn't labor in a field. Most muggles had automobiles and the portable telephones. Have you seen any around here?"

"Well…no. But we have really only been to the tavern so far." Hermione challenged chewing on her lip uncertainty.

"Which was lit by a fireplace and torches." He sighed letting his shoulders relax as he stared at her lips. " We didn't get our delivery and no one seems to recognize us from yesterday. There is something off about this town."

"Well… it is a bit odd." She conceded. "Have you heard-"

Just then the same woman who greeted them when they first walked into town bustled out of her house, the same child in toe. She spotted them before making her way over.

"Visitors! So sorry about that mess. What brings you to our little town?"

Draco recovered first launching into their cover about hunting folklore. The woman nodded along responding in the same general manner she had the day before.

"Oh the folks down at the tavern will talk your ear off about all of that." The woman smiled as the child grew restless. "Where are you staying? I can see if we have anyone to take you in but we will have to split you."

"We actually have a cart out by the church. Do you know any good spots to make camp?" Draco responded evenly.

The child wriggled it's way down again."Looks like I better go. Why don't you all set up on the East side of town that away? There's an old mill Down south by the river. It could use some cleaning up but I am sure you could stay there!"

She waved politely and headed off in the same direction she did last time. "Thank you for your assistance Ms…."

She opened her mouth with a smile, the violent buzzing blurring her words before she nodded. Draco watched her disappear around a bend.

"Told you." He commented as his eyes continued to stare after the woman. Hermione shook her head as if to jolt herself out of a dream, her ringlets bouncing lightly.

"That was… odd. Did she forget we were here?" Hermione questioned staring after the woman. "Twins maybe? Or a mental injury."

"Not sure. That wouldn't explain why we can't hear... names?" Draco mused, checking her for conformation. "Let's check out some of the area around town for now. Until the tavern opens back up I don't think we will be finding many people to talk to."


	40. A Heavy Handed Hint

God it was freezing. Draco woke up with a groan, his toes felt like ice and his breath was coming out in short spurts of steam. If Hermione took down the weather proofing charms just to annoy him he was going to hex her across the damn haunted forest.

Their night had been rather fruitless. The tavern had settled back into the exact set up of the first night. All silence and broodiness until Draco offered another round, starting when he saw the same money from yesterday had appeared back in his wallet. Hermione stomped back to the mill without a word after a quick dinner. She pouted for no less than twenty minutes before grousing over to her bed, quickly pulling the covers over herself. He settled into his own twenty minutes later and she was fast asleep at that point. But perhaps she had woken up?

When he rolled over to grab his wand he was surprised to see the witch in question, perfectly still. As if she had been frozen in time. Deciding a hex was worth waking her he called out.

“Granger?” The air around him shivered with power. He heard hoofbeats pound against the packed earth outside, drawing closer. It was odd; he wasn’t really used to the sounds of horses anymore, wizard or muggle. Sure, _ his _ family had an ancient line of war horses when he was a kid but his mother insisted they be removed after he was kicked by one at age eight.

He threw his legs over the edge of the bed, hissing lightly at the feeling of cold earth against his soles. He stood before continuing his thought. The animals sounded too big to be plow horses. No he was willing to bet they were the regal beast of battle. Large hulking things that didn’t shy away from a fight. Baying howls added to the growing din as he drifted towards the door.

A hunt then, likely after some dangerous and wild beast. A grand prize to be sure. He hadn’t hunted in years, not since Theo’s father took them out after foxes when he was ten. Theo cried like a baby and the elder Nott never spoke of it again. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it. The vicious growling of dogs, the crashing undergrowth, the shouts of men. It was intoxicating.

He reached for the doorknob, prepared to fling open the wood and join his fellows on a midnight ride through the densely packed wood. Surely there would be some worthy game, perhaps a large feast after to-

“-Co?” He jumped when he felt Hermione hand touch lightly on his arm. He hadn’t even heard her get out of bed. She was shivering next to him in an oversized shirt with her hair twisted up messily.

“Hm.” His gaze drifted back to the door, his hand following.

“What are you doing?” Hermione’s hand closed over where his rested on the cool rusted metal.

“Don’t you hear it?” He questioned gazing at the mossy planks as if he could see the hunting party on the other side. They threw up their arms in greeting, beckoning. An overwhelming need to get outside shivered through him. “They’re calling me.”

Hermione's face was scrunched up in confusion, her breath coming out in small pants. Something flashed in her eyes, a sliver of fear. It was enough for him to shake out of the stupor he hadn’t realized he slid into. The thick magic sloughing off him like a coat.

“You don’t hear them?” He questioned taking a step back from the entrance. The pounding of impatient hooves clattered outside the door. Hermione’s gaze followed his. 

“I do now.” They both stared at the door waiting for it to crash open.

“I want to go outside.” Draco forced out, feeling a heavy layer of magic begin to coat him again. He tried to fight his way to the top only for his thoughts to grow calm and placid. Throwing himself into a sea of emotions.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Hermione responded, pulling him back to his bed. He controlled his legs from bounding forward and allowed himself to be tucked in, his gaze never leaving the door. As soon as her hands were off him he found himself back at the exit, not remembering even getting up.

“Draco.” Hermione had appeared at his arm again, pulling him back to bed. “You can’t go out there.”

“Why not?” He questioned breathily as she cast a sticking charm. He couldn’t even sense her magic, a thought that he only spared a moment's sadness for.

“I don’t think you will come back if you do.” The snorts of the horses could be heard by the water, he could nearly see them jostling for the prime spots.

“I have to go.” He whispered as soon as her back was turned. He shrugged off the sticking charm as if it wasn’t there. Barely registering the resistance. His mind began to cloud but he only got a step before her arm had wrapped around his waist. He glanced down at it curiously.

“You need to stay.” She whispered into his back gently walking him back to his bed. She dragged him down in it, untangling her arm. He felt his body jerk the moment her skin left his. Instantly she replaced her hand on his shoulder, pulling herself into a sitting position.

“I’ll keep watch. Just try to go back to sleep.” He stared at the door unable to respond. “We’ll deal with it in the morning.”

He settled into the mattress, feeling fuzzy headed and blurred. Hermione continued to stare at the door as her hand drew lazy circles on his shoulder. At some point sleep took him, his dreams filled with vivid jumps and heart wrenching squeals.

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He came to with the distinct feeling of a cobweb over his face. He supposed it was not all that surprising considering the state of the mill. He brushed his hand against his face, catching in a knot of something substantial.

When he breathed in, the heavy smell of cinnamon and honey drew him fully awake. His eyes adjusted to the late morning light filtering in through the pathetic window. The air had warmed considerably, reaching a comfortable temperature, if not a bit hot.

He became aware of a weight pressing on his chest, a familiar one. With a groan he looked down already knowing it would be Hermione. She was collapsed in a heap on his chest, her right cheek digging into the skin above his heart. Her lips slowly rose and fell with each breath, the small sounds of wakefulness slipping out. They pressed shut as she lazily opened her eyes, still laden with sleep.

“Some guard dog you are.” He quipped, his voice still raspy with sleep. A flicker of shame flashed in her eyes when they met his only to melt away into a smug confidence.

“Big talk for someone who needed a nanny to keep away the nightmares.” She chuckled, settling back down with closed eyes and noticeably not jumping off him like he was on fire.

“Granger? Are you seriously going back to sleep?” He balked at the idea. She should be blushing and launching off the bed at breakneck speed.

“You said it’s a holiday. We’re supposed to sleep.” She muttered lightly against his skin. He made the very conscious decision it was not considered a kiss in any way.

“I’m still naked.” He challenged, trying to avoid thinking about how soft she felt. Her upper body was draped gently over his with her legs still kicked out on the side of the bed. If she shifted too much things were going to get awkward.

“You’re wearing boxers.” She huffed with a sigh, nuzzling further. “I didn’t get any sleep ‘cause of you.”

The cold wash of reality from last night shocked him back awake. He rose gently, jostling her off him and into a sitting position. He made a point to drape the blanket thickly across his lap while she blinked away sleep.

“What was that?” He questioned allowing his gaze to fall on the door. He felt no need to go outside at all. As a matter of fact, in the light of day, he never wanted to go back outside again.

“Not sure.” She answered with a yawn, stretching high as the hem of her shirt rode painfully up her thigh. Suddenly, this vacation felt more like a deathtrap in more ways than one. “I think we better find out before tonight though. Breakfast?”

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“Wilde Jagd” The old woman supplied as she rocked. Hermione had been thrilled when they found the woman rocking in front of the general store. Her glassy eyes stared out along the deserted plaza while she spoke but Hermione was more than certain she was aware of everything around her.

“The Wild Hunt?” Draco questioned with a raised eyebrow. Hermione scratched down the words in a pocket notebook before questioning him.

“You’re familiar?” 

“It’s in an anthology by Wilhelm Grimm.” He responded warily. She had noticed he was on edge all morning, hardly surprising considering the circumstances. Currently he was leaning against a wooden support beam with his arms crossed, fidgeting with his cloak.

“Wait.. as in the Brothers Grimm?” She clarified, picturing a rather large collection of traditional fairy tales in her parent’s library. Her mother didn’t let her read it until she was ten but she had of course peaked at it on occasion.

“I think he may have had a squib brother. I can’t remember though.” He kept his eyes pinned on the town elder who was smiling lightly.

“But those are just fairy tales.”Hermione flicked through her memories of the book. They were dark for children’s stories, products of their time. Surely they were just stories though.

“You read those to children?” Draco looked at her as if she had grown bunny ears.

“Not the point.” She huffed lightly.

  
“Right well if the brothers’ research holds true we need to get out of here and quickly.”

“We have weeks left!” Hermione ventured watching the way he twitched in irritation at any stray noise. He was more on edge than she thought and she guiltily wondered if he wasn’t able to sleep after all. She hadn’t meant to curl up on him like that, she was just so tired.

“War.” He huffed aggressively pinning her with a look filled with guilt and fear. “It’s an omen of war.”

Hermione’s sharp intake of breath was interrupted by a high pitched cackle next to her. “Wodan cares not for the scuffles of us mortals. He is eternal.”

“What does it mean then?” Hermione asked politely before Draco could snap at the woman.

“Wodan’s arrival marks the time of a quest.” She hummed lightly. “He recruits both heroes and sacrifices.”

“Well then, he has terrible judgement for coming after me.” Draco growled glaring at the blind storyteller.

“The judgement of a God supersedes any opinion of your own. If he marks you a hero you are a hero child. Push not against your destiny”

“Couldn’t he just... Ask politely?” Hermione questioned as she chewed on her quill. Draco’s eyes shot sharply to her face and he shifted uncomfortably.

“The old gods do not request. They demand. The Schwarzwald is their hope, the last bastion of antiquity. If they want him, they will take him. It is fate.”

“Screw fate!” Draco snarled, pulling away his gaze from her face and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Sweet little mouse.” The crone laughed again. “You cannot refuse the forest. Something is wrong, Wodan wants it dealt with. The old ways will always live here, even as we push them out.”

“Fine.” Hermione reasoned. “If we make it whatever it is go away will he leave Draco alone?”

“Hmmm.” The old woman rocked as she thought. “So they say. When a hunt is complete he will return to his slumber. A prize of glory and gold awaits his chosen few.”

“I have both glory and gold. I do not need more.” Draco hissed. Hermione nodded as she stood brushing off the dust from her red cape. She had taken to wearing clothes that the locals did in hopes they would blend in more seamlessly. She made a point not to acknowledge how pleased she was that Draco had done the same.

“Okay so we just walk up to him, ask what he wants, hop on a horse and then I can sleep?” Draco questioned with a sneer. 

“Oh, no child.” The crone shook her head. “You cannot join him on his hunt. He does not tarry for the foolishness of mortal man. If you join his party, you will never come back.”

Draco looked absolutely apocalyptic and Hermione decided it was the perfect time to bow out. Which was unfortunate, she had wanted to ask about the creature the worker had seen as well. She guided a pouting Draco past the bakery and back to the fields so that they could talk in private.

“She’s insane.” He threw up his hands as he broiled, the laughing fading out behind them. “I say we leave anyway. Fuck the cursed village. It’s not our problem.”

“Do you know where to apparate to?” Hermione hissed as she grabbed his wrist pulling him to a stop. 

“We can take it a kilometer at a time.” He countered with a growl. Eyeing where her hand held his wrist with an odd look.

“Until we land in the center of a lake. You don’t apparate without knowing where you are going.”

“I know!” He yelled, ripping his hand away. She tried to ignore any offensive she felt. “Why are you always touching me? Stop that.”

“God you’re temperamental today. I don-”

“We can just jump to the top of each hill we see and do it that way. We can camp where we have to, I am sick of this place.” He wrapped his arms around himself protectively. If he weren’t so angry she would have assumed it was for comfort.

“I don’t know about you but I don't want to test if the magical ghost pack can break down a fabric tent. Besides we can barely cast anything accurately here as is.” The first time she sent a tripping jinx Draco’s way after a rude comment at breakfast she sent him flying twenty feet. They had agreed to no more directed magic and certainly no apparition. Her power scale had been thrown out of control so close to the forest and it made splinching a real fear for the first time in years. “Look, the return portkey I made will drag us back to my workshop in another eleven days. Am I really so horrid that you can’t last a few days lounging about with me?” Hermione knew it was a bit manipulative but she really needed to talk him down. Judging but the way he stiffened it had worked. “We can stop looking into whatever is going on in the town and just pretend it’s some sort of themed heritage attraction.” 

“It’s not awful. It’s just…. I just don’t like this Hermione. I feel like we’re being dragged into something against our will and I have had enough of that to last a lifetime.” He sighed gazing warily towards the trees. The forest followed them everywhere here, it was never out of sight.

“You would do horribly as Harry Potter’s best friend then.” She smiled kindly. “As long as we're together we’ll be fine, they can’t just take you.” Hoping to comfort him she wrapped her arms tightly around him in the sort of hug Molly Weasley would give on Christmas, practically crushing him.

“Oof. You hug like a man.” She barked out a laugh, swiping his hair into his face. He regarded it with a scowl before pushing it back expertly.

“You hug like someone who needs more of them.” She supplied cheekily, unlacing her arms. She shivered as his warmth was replaced with cold spring air. “Come on, I think I saw some cat tail growing by the river and I need some for my stocks.”

“But Granger.” He whined, throwing his head back before falling into step easily beside her. “It’s a holiday.”

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He woke that night in much less of a fit. After settling comfortably in his bed he closed his eyes and wrapped the cover around him. When he woke this time it was to a heavy weight around his waist and alarm bells sounding from a caterwaul charm. He wasn’t even aware he had gotten up.

“Granger?” He was able to murmur out before the solid clattering of the hooves on the pavement up to the mill could be heard.

“I’m here.” She whispered softly from somewhere behind him. “Come on back, nice and easy.”

Draco allowed himself to be guided, deeply fighting the urge to just tear across the floor and rip open the door. Her small warm hands burned against his skin as she pulled him back to his bed without pretense. He twisted one arm around her shoulder, a bit too tightly if her exhale of air could be trusted. She kept one arm loose around his waist for security while she called over her bed and fused them back into a queen. He let himself be pulled down softly into the sheets almost marveling at the care she took as she leaned over him. If it were Blaise or Theo, Draco would have been blasted back into the bed without so much of an ‘as you please’. The longer her palm lay flush against his abdomen the quieter the sounds of horses and knocking.

“I won’t ask you to-” He stated before she hushed him. She lightly pulled the conjoined quilt over him and tucked in the side against the wall.

“It’s fine.” She yawned, settling next to him with a shiver, blocking the edge of the bed with her body. It was about that moment he realized that the reason her hand was so warm was because the room was so cold.

“Wait no. You get under, I’ll-” She cut him off again, shuffling her body under the thick blanket as well, closing it around them. His pulse jumped as the skin of her thigh brushed lightly against his as she curled into him. He could feel her strong heart beat against his bare chest and his body responded eagerly.

“It’s fine I trust you.” She mumbled softly into his chest, completely unaware of the head rush the statement subjected him to. “Go to sleep.”

Somehow feeling like he was in grave danger he wavered on where to put his hands. He was fairly sure sleeping with them folded across his stomach would result in them landing somewhere unacceptable. He could sleep with them behind his head but then her face would be wedged directly below his armpit and he was sure that wouldn’t be pleasant. He could rest them at his sides but they would likely reach for the temptation of her at some point and that would lead them to a line he certainly couldn’t cross. If she didn’t kill him first. He felt like a leach for even considering it after such an innocent and trusting gesture. The late night interruptions were getting to him but that was no excuse.

His panicked adolescent thoughts were interrupted by her pulling lightly at his arm. He let her draw it up and away so she could fit more snugly to his chest. With his arm raised awkwardly above them he found no other place to naturally put it other than sliding it under the blanket and laying it directly on her back. All and all it was not all that different from how they had slept on the couch together a couple of months ago. Just a lot less clothes and the same amount of fantastical interference.

“Night Draco.” She murmured, already half asleep.

“Night Granger.” As her breath settled into steady labored puff the sounds of the hunt flickered further and further away. He pushed a stray curl behind her ear preening as she curled into his hand. By the time he found sleep it was to the gentle puffs of her breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Wild Hunt:  
> An interesting mythos across most of Europe. The consensus is mostly the same. that in the middle of the night spirits of the hunt come for humans and request to be joined. If the human takes them up on it they most likely wont come back but on occasion can. Sometimes the hunt just steals evil humans away, sometime they only take anyone who has actually seen them. It can be an omen of war, strife, plague, death or rarely heroes.  
> Historically speaking it is thought that The Wild Hunt represents the anger of the old heathen gods for being replaced and forgotten. Regardless, when the wild hunt goes riding, you do not want to join.
> 
> Money Magic:  
> Draco's wallet had a conversion charm on it that magically withdrawals from his Gringotts account directly as well as converts it to the regional currency.


	41. A Lapse of Judgment

The rain poured down a thin gray haze on the other side of the window. The slow rumble of distant thunder that had woken him faded out into nothingness. Once again he had found himself in the compromising situation of being entangled with Hermione Granger early in the morning. At least he wasn't trapped under her this time.

He sighed as he debated on how to best extract himself. She had rolled up close to him at some point in the night pressing her back to him and shimmied herself to meld against his body. Her neck was butter soft where it brushed against his nose before disappearing under her shirt. The waves of warmth pushing off her body made him uncomfortable in all the right ways and he found himself needing to beat a hasty retreat for a cold walk in the rain.

Snaking his arm out from under her he had managed to unknot them without too much fuss. Pinned against the wall he weighed his options and decided there was not a much better choice available. He was setting about arranging himself to crawl over her in an undignified arch when she rolled onto her back, letting out a honey sweet sigh. His breath hitched as she murmured something silently, watching the pale coral pink lips worry over some imagined problem, likely involving some impossible level of magic she didn't need to know if she would just leave well enough alone. They slid into a gentle smile so fleeting it could have been imagined. Not a knowing smile, not a witty punctuation. A genuine, innocent smile born from just the sort of things your usual everyday happiness was. He wanted that happiness, he wanted the simplicity of it.

Before he could think to stop himself he dipped down, just barely brushing his lips against hers, a shot of electricity bolting through his brain. With a start, he practically threw himself over her and onto the floor, landing with a muffled thump. He froze in shocked terror as the blankets above him shifted. He was sure she would be awake any moment to hex him into a pig or some equally disgusting animal just as he deserved. What did he think he was doing? He was a condemned fool, just taking what he wanted without pause! She was right, he was a child. An arrogant, lecherous child and now he couldn't even try to deny it.

When the rustling settled down with an exhale of breath he allowed himself one as well. Leaning back with his knees pulled up near his chest, he let his head loll back onto the mattress. He wished he could say he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt her hand drift across the mattress, searching for him, before tangling it in his hair. Instead he simply leaned into her fingers, strands of hair falling onto his forehead while exhaling a contented, selfish sigh. A still sleeping Hermione murmured in response before falling still. His mind was running at a thousand thoughts per minute, but the principal one was the most dangerous of all.

"Fuck."

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Over the next few days they mapped the village. The goal was to find the best way to supply food and other materials that couldn't leave the village but were real while within it. They had set a plan of attack to watch various parts of the village and learn the patterns the people looped through each day. They found that even when a direct interaction was interfered with, the villager found a way to return back to their pre-walked path. Even when Draco had accidentally been seen casting a vanishing charm on the remains of their lunch the public outcry had been subdued and forgotten by dinner. While the small town made this easy to catalog they quickly ran into the issue of having nothing at all to do before the workers got in. Most people from the town did indeed work in the fields and when followed to the edge of the road boundary they simply vanished before reappearing at the end of the day.

Not one to waste a day Hermione had taken to researching what information they had discovered. She was currently digging through a copy of the Grimm's work hoping for some information on the hunt. Not that she necessarily minded sleeping with him, he was warm and she felt safer wrapped around him than she had in years. Plus she woke up every day to a very befuddled and awkward Draco which was deeply entertaining from the otherwise composed man. She had shared beds with both Ron and Harry throughout their lives of course. Sometimes even as tangled up as she had been with Draco, taking comfort in the warmth of another human. This was different though.

He had gotten even stiffer than usual about it after the second night, going to bed nearly dressed and with the least amount of contact between them as possible. It was pointless though, at some point in the night she always awoke cold and managed to find a way to wiggle under his arm. He would instinctively pull her close and a quiet rumble would vibrate down his chest. In a weird sort of way it made her proud, though she knew it was only because of whatever magic kept pushing them together.

They had spent the morning wandering the fields and edge of the forest for potion ingredients and had not come up empty handed. An obscenely high number of magical plants grew just at the tree line although it always felt like there was a nice patch of whatever she was collecting growing further in if she would just take a few more steps. Hermione resisted the urge every time.

She looked up at the looming forest from the other side of the river and shivered. They have made slow improvements to the mill, changing the wooden walls to halfway decent stone. It wasn't as if they had to worry about any muggles coming around to ask questions did they? They had worked remarkably fast considering the amount of work permanent transfiguration took. Hermione was fairly certain that the Black Forest had something to do with that. What she had mistaken for dark magic upon arrival had shown itself to be… not necessarily light magic but very old and very powerful. Even as she sat on the bank reading she felt the forest swell, calling for her. The air around her became hazy and heady with power.

She turned her gaze from the woods and forced it back to the book. She had been reading a chapter about water spirits while Draco took a nap inside. He had taken to lying down for about an hour each afternoon after the business with the hunt started. She wasn't sure if they had stopped coming or not but he spent the whole night wrapped around her anyway. She tried not to blush as she thought of this morning position. At some point in the night she had rolled off him, removing her hand and risking his safety. Thankfully he had rolled over too and laced his arm around her pulling her tight against his chest and melding their bodies together with an increasing familiarity. It was a natural reaction she supposed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by an increased gurgling from the stream. She looked up from the novel to check the water wheel only to be stunned by a small blue-black pony drinking by the stream.

His near floor length white mane dripped with water, as he raised his head to nicker softly at Hermione. Big aqua eyes glistened with patience and kindness of a well loved pet. Hermione's heart instantly softened as she looked at the innocent creature. Probably left by someone in the villages ages ago and somehow bred out. She had always held a soft spot for animals, one only needed to look at Crooks to see that she favored the castaways and forgotten.

She let the book on her lap fall away as she approached the animal slowly while muttering calming sounds. There was no need though, the sweet creatures pranced along in the shallows as if happy to draw anyone's attention.

"You're a dramatic little thing aren't you? Quiet the showman. You remind me of a wizard sleeping in that cabin over there." The small unimposing horse, sweet natured as could be, simply huffed lightly. Hermione felt the water lap lightly at her ankles wondering how such a sweet docile creature could have survived alone for so long. He must have had some sort of old stable to shelter in.

"Come now dear. We will take care of you." Finally within touching distance she placed her palm on the horse's rump. A vague childhood memory of her mother always warning her to let the horse know where you were spurring her on. The hair was supple and clean, not even a fleck of dust marred the pristine white surface. She hoped Draco had a stable at the manor. If not... could you keep a pony on a roof? With the proper fencing of course. Well, she would manage.

"Aren't you such a beautiful thing?" She traced her hand up the creature's body, feeling the muscles twitch softly underneath its skin. When she reached its head the small pony nuzzled softly into her hand. "You poor thing, not much use to anyone now are you? I bet you used to be a fair pony. So patient and soft, even the most timid of children would ride you."

The horse seemed to nicker in agreement, splashing around in the knee deep water. Hermione wasn't sure when she had waded into the deepest part of the small stream. She hoped the poor beast hadn't been backing away from her. She didn't want to be too pushy.

"Would you like a ride?" Hermione asked, trying to dredge up memories of the last time she had ridden. She had been six and it ended poorly. But with a sweet little boy like this how bad could it be? What use was a saddle anyway? "You'll be good won't you?"

The pony nickered enthusiastically falling to one knee so she could mount it. With a soft smile Hermione braced herself. "Such a smart boy too."

"Hermione! No!" She had barely hefted her leg over the creatures back when it took off at a gallop. She barely registered the sheer panic from Draco as she went flying past in a blur of colors and a shameless scream. The creature moved in water like it was born for it, breaking across the surface in the steady thundering of hooves. With a cry she tried to throw herself off only to find herself all but glued to the horse's back a frightful distance from the speeding current. She noted that she the animal under her appear to have grown at least another meter and was now towering above the surface. Whatever this creature was, it was most certainly not a harmless pony.

"-totalis." Hermione felt the jinx hit, binding her muscles for only a moment before the sharp pain of a shattered spell broke around them. The horse barely stumbled. Branches whipped at her face as the beast recovered, thin streaks of pain shooting across her skin. They were moving too fast. Faster than natural.

"Draco! Help!" She cried eyeing the widening mouth of the river. The drop off between the stream and the lake was massive, emptying to a reservoir deep enough for the creature to drown and taking her with it.

"Incarcerous!" The horse stumbled as the hobble tied around its front legs shorted it stride. A second shot of the spell tied it tightly to an overhanging branch of an oak tree. Already Hermione could feel the thick tension of magic ready to snap. Draco appeared up the bank with a stumbling crack, rapidly flipping through her discarded book.

"It's the Nixe! What do I do?" He cried rapidly scanning the index.

"No idea!" Hermione cried as the ties snapped, sending them careening towards the lake with renewed purpose. "The lake!" The wide mane her hands had tangled in began to fade leaving a vague outline of water. It was at that moment Hermione realized that they wouldn't drown at all. She was the only one heading to a watery grave.

"Shite! Don't move!" She heard Draco call behind her as he cried out the dual echo of a spell. "Diffindo!"

The nixe cried out as two perfect cuts appeared on its thick neck forming a crude cross. Its solid form had almost disappeared as it rocketed ahead ready to leap into a the placid lake. Hermione's heart pushed its way into her throat, muting any sound.

"STOP!" Draco's voice shouted out in a tone that indicated he was expected to be listened to. The horse lurched to a halt, a half meter away from the drop off that emptied into the lake. If Hermione hadn't been stuck to the horse she would have gone flying into it. As it was she could see the glimmer of fish scale, flickering in and out of the murky depths. Her own breathing matched the pant of the horse and she could only stare ahead as the sound of splashing drew closer.

"Let her down." Immediately Hermione felt her body loosen, held up only by the sticking charm, she all but fell into Draco's waiting arms. She may have been embarrassed if it weren't for the fact she was too utterly exhausted to care. As it was she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, allowing his body weight to support hers. Already the deep red wound on the now rather large horse was healing over.

"Transform." Draco responded looking at the creature with suspicion, her book held open in his palm as he supported her with the other arm. The creature paused only a moment before melting down into the water and reforming.

Before her stood a painfully beautiful young man. Hermione would have just put him at 17 with big watery eyes and stark dark hair. His pale skin was completely unblemished except for the bleeding red 'x' carved into his neck, shrinking quickly. Hermione was saved any indecency by the waist deep water but judging by the pale coloring underneath he was naked as well.

"I was so close, wizard." The nixe breathed still frozen in place. His timbre of his voice sounded calming and sensuous, like water if it could purr. She would have been entranced if she hadn't already been captured by him once.

"To drowning the bint! Why on earth would you do that?" Draco growled. Hermione tried not to feel touched as his grip around her tightened. His hand shook lightly as it pressed into the curve of her waist.

"I wasn't going to drown her. Just take her to the kingdom below." The youth rolled his eyes as if they were inconveniencing him by not just dying peacefully.

"What do you want with me?" Hermione questioned, her teeth chattering in the cold water.

The nixe ignored her, focusing on a small shellfish darting under a rock in the water. He licked his lips and Hermione felt but enthralled and terrified at the motion. Magic crackled around the creature warning of danger and power.

"Answer her." Draco commanded. Venom leaked into his voice and she couldn't hold back the flinch. It was always a bit too much of the past when he spoke like that. When he looked down with a worried glance, his eyes filled with nothing but concern, she allowed herself to relax.

"I want nothing. But the forest…" The nixe looked reverently towards the towering woods and Hermione felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the late spring air.

"Tell her." Draco commanded forcefully. "Tell her what the forest wants!"

It was too late. Hermione gasped as the wound on the boy's neck fully closed and he smiled cruelly. Freed from his confinement, he reared back, changing instantly into the massive horse prepared to dash his heavy hooves into their huddled form only to fall over them as a cold but ultimately harmless wave of water. She waited for him to reappear, Draco attempting to drag her towards the banks. After a few seconds, Hermione came back to herself, all but scrambling out of the water.

"What in the hell is going on around here?" She collapsed on the bank a good distance back from the water. She eyes the river watchfully as Draco dragged himself next to her.

"Why on earth would you try to ride a nixe?!" He shouted, shivering from the icy water. She pulled out her wand casting a weak warming spell over them. He was positively shaking. "Do you have any idea how terrifying that was?"

"Yes! I do, considering I was on it!" She shouted back letting the fear motivate her. "Stupid magic. I thought it was a horse. Why can't a horse just be a horse?!"

"And you just randomly jump on any horse you see?" He scoffed.

"Clearly there was so sort of compulsion magic around him." She hissed, her breath ripped from her lungs with every inhale. "He looked so impossibly gentle and sweet when I saw him."

"I will buy you every horse in England as long as you promise to never do anything that fucking dangerous again. I don't know how Potter did it! What would I do if you were dead? Did you even bother to think about that?" Her heart pinged and all the fight left her as she stared at him. His hand had come up to rest on her cheek and was turning her head gently inspecting for damage. She shivered as his fingers ran over the light scratches with a frown. His eyes burned with a fierce protectiveness and his breath coming out in heavy pants giving his usually ivory cheeks a pleasant blush of color. It really was unfair that he was so uniquely beautiful, it made winning arguments easy.

"T-trust me." She stammered out, definitely from the cold. "I will never be riding a horse ever again."

Apparently deciding she was undamaged he handed back her book with shaking hands. She couldn't even pluck up the nerve to be offended that he had gotten it a bit wet. They stared at each other for a moment linked by the mass of paper and leather before Draco hauled her up, much to her protest.

"Look, night is falling and I don't want to be out here when hypothermia sets in." He cast another weak warming spell as they stumbled back to the cabin. Hermione was glad, he would probably want to go to sleep early after all that and she could use the security, not that she would tell him that.

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Hermione had staked out a position on the West of town near a home that apparently held the community tub for washing clothes. She wished she had learned more about muggle history so she could better pinpoint the time period these people were trapped in. She stepped off the street exactly as three young women exited the door.

"And I heard he was going with Mila." The eldest of the bunch couldn't have been more than eighteen with long blonde hair she let flow freely. The other two appeared to be sisters, one around sixteen with bright blue eyes and mousy brown hair and the other barely ten and struggling behind a basket of washing. They were about to stay something else when they noticed Hermione.

"Oh, hello there." The eldest offered. "I don't think we have met?"

"Oh no." Hermione responded trying to match the demure yet friendly nature of the leader.  
"My brother and I are visiting town and I find it awfully lonely. Everyone is out in the fields and my brother only wants to talk about books and his research."

"Oh you poor thing!" The mousy girl responded nodding along. "I heard about you this morning, stuck travelling with a boy for so long. You must be dying for some feminine company. Join us!"

"Yeah! We were just about to talk about the Blacksmith's son in-" The elder pair hushed the youngest with a blush.

"None about that." The eldest offered adjusting her basket on her hip and setting out at an amble. "Where are the two of you staying? I don't know if you've spoken to anyone yet but there is no inn here."

"The old mill on the edge of town." Hermione answered, taking the overbearing basket from the young girl. She had hair to match her sister with bright brown eyes.

"Mama says it's haunted!" She supplied helpfully.

"Hush you. There is no such thing as ghost, the pastor said so." The golden haired one snarked. Hermione hearty warmed watching the interaction. She had never had sisters but she imagined this was what she was missing out on.

"Oma says there are spirits." The young girl continued seeing a captive audience in Hermione. "She says they live in the woods and they steal children who misbehave."

"Then why haven't they taken you." The middle girl questioned sticking her tongue out.

"Oma says they took-." Hermione flinched at the aggressive buzzing, tightening her grip on the basket. "That her soul is gone and that's why-."

"Quiet." The eldest hissed. Apparently this was significant to the child as she immediately shrank back. "We don't talk about such things, it is blasphemous."

Before Hermione could press a loud bell rang in the distance, a murmur of voices in the square grew from the silence, notifying the town of the daily spectacle in the square.

"Let's go see what it is!" The middle girl started with excitement.

"Probably just _BUZZ_ with another display of his hunting prowess." The blonde girl commented with a light blush. "In any event let's head over."

As if Hermione had ceased to exist, they set off away from her, on to their next daily task. The basket of laundry disappeared from her arms and reappeared in the young girls hands as they set out on the road. If the blonde girl fancied that boy she would never get a chance to tell him if she hadn't already. They would keep reliving the same day and have the same conversations over and over again, ultimately unable to veer too far from it. Hermione watched until they disappeared back into their pre-locked lifestyle, wondering if she was really any different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Net a Nixe  
> The Nixe is a water spirit known throughout Europe. It is also called a Neck. The horse is known to bait people into the water but when grabbed or touched it will drag a person to their deaths. Some are known to have a human form to draw unsavory men and women to their doom. In some iterations if you mark it with the sign of the cross it will be under your dominion.


	42. A Trap is Sprung

“It’s so strange. The closest thing I can think of is someone messed with time.” Hermione mused as they gathered some bloodroot growing at the forest edge. They had agreed to no longer be caught alone outside of town and Hermione was finding she deeply enjoyed the challenge of Draco’s company, even just while sitting by the fire at the end of the day. He had been staring at her a lot more recently, like he was afraid she was going to break. One death defying scenario and suddenly she was made of glass in his eyes. It would be annoying if he weren’t so subtle about it. It may also be more annoying if it didn’t transfer over to soft grazing touches when they passed in close proximity to each other, as if he was just checking to see if she was okay. The glancing contact of his fingers on her hip sent all the wrong sort of warnings to her head and with him trailing behind her she was out of luck when it came to finding an outlet. She wondered briefly if Blaise could put his money where his mouth was before quickly discarding the idea.

“Time turners weren’t around until the 1800’s.” Draco commented as he swung a sharp hatchet at the nearest root. The bright red liquid seeped into his skin, staining his comically orange. The hue clashed horribly with his coloring. He had rolled up his sleeves to protect them only to result in more surface area to dye. “And I thought we weren’t talking about this?”

“Hypothetically… any other ancient magics you know of related to time?” Hermione questioned as she picked up the remains of his work when he moved onto the next clump of small white flowers.

“Hard to say. They say the Black Forest is one of the oldest magical places on the planet. Who knows what lives in it.” As if baited, Hermione saw something bright blue flash out of the corner of her eye. She stiffened staring into the dark patch of forest as if trying to make out something that was not there.

“Did you-”

“I did.” He whispered, pulling up tall. He scanned the undergrowth, wand in hand. As if on cue a small blue flame lept into being, just inside the forest thicket, floating peacefully mid-air.

“Fool’s fire.” His voice was deadly calm and steady as his eyes fixed on the harmless looking orb. Hermione felt an overwhelming sense of motivation and drive, like her goal was just ahead.

“I take it, we don’t want to follow it.” Hermione breathed trying to stuff down the urge. The ice blue glow was inherently calming. The flames flickered in a barely perceivable pattern, dancing in the air and inviting them to join.

“It depends.” Draco responded, lacing his hand in hers firmly. She hadn’t realized but she had stood and made to take a step forward. “Sometimes they lead to treasure and glory. Sometimes to the edge of doom. It depends on which wizard you ask.”

“Any idea on which one these have in store for us?” Hermione questioned as a second small flame appeared behind the first. More began to pop up in rapid succession, lighting a clear pathway into the thicket.

“No.” Draco was staring straight ahead, his eyes reflecting the fire that was far too distant to be showing.

“Let’s not then.” Hermione forced herself to tug backward slightly, only to hear a roar of blue flames climb up behind them in a wall of heat that burned nothing. Draco pulled her to his chest stumbling deeper into the timber as the flames died to a merry flicker, an obvious threat trapping them in. It appeared that the forest was done waiting for them.

“I don’t think we have much of an option anymore.” He muttered, staring at the line of ghostly light. They seemed to bounce as if they were laughing. 

“I would like to state for the record that I don’t like this one bit.” Hermione huffed as they begrudgingly stepped forward. The flames behind them died down but Hermione felt fairly certain that if they were to take one step back they would roar to life once again.

“I cannot help but agree.” Draco mused, pulling her along by the hand. His touch was surprisingly gentle considering his hand almost completely enveloped her own. His skin was flecked with the tiny bumps that came from frequent knife use and accidental boil overs. It felt warm against the cool air and in spite of the uneasy aura about them Hermione felt much more sure of herself.

“Okay, so we fix whatever is wrong then pop back to the mill for a quick lunch! No trouble at all.” Her awkward laugh hung in the air emptily, somehow making the whole situation even more foreboding. As they approached the first wisp Hermione became aware of a gentle ringing sensation. They stopped a few feet short of the orb and stared at it.

“Well… what now?” She asked as the haunting ice blue flame bobbed slightly in front of them.

“Why are you asking me? Don’t you have more experience with this sort of nonsense?” He questioned as he gestured to the floating orb. 

“I was hoping those days were over when I had finished school.” Hermione commented lightly.

“Were they?” He shot back with an eyebrow raised. She sighed.

“No. Unfortunately I just don’t know when to stay away well enough for my own good apparently.”

“Don’t forget that you apparently have some commune with Nature since a collection of trees older than England has somehow roped you in to doing its bidding. You better at least get a title for that.” He scoffed.

“Your witty commentary is not getting us anywhere. Do we just pick it up or-” She reached for the flame just for it to disappear, the orbs behind it flaring brightly for a moment as if to encourage them on.

“That seems as clear as anything. Stay close.” Draco shrugged leading them on a meandering path through the forest, following the blue orbs. She trailed behind him, hand linked in his hand and wand at the ready.

As they walked further into the undergrowth the thick bushes and brambles grew patchy, leveling out to the flat swatches of pine needle floors and towering trunks. As they moved the air grew thicker with magic a heavy metallic tang coated her tongue unpleasantly.

“Granger… call me crazy but I am pretty sure this is where we arrived.” Draco mused as he slowed to a stop.

“Impossible, we were on the other side of town when we-” He bent over to pick up a small item from the dirt. Hermione's voice cut out when she saw a familiar but entirely out of place metal screw.

“I don’t like this.” He commented, sliding the screw into his pocket. Hermione thought about telling him to leave it as a marker but decided that if they were walking in circles she didn’t want to know. The flames pulsed insistently, spurring them on as the feeling of wrongness grew. Even Hermione could feel the dark magic now, it made her spine shiver and the hair on her neck stand on end. Every twitch, every sound sent her head swiveling. She had rarely felt unadulterated primal fear in her life. Sure she had been afraid, even terrified. But this was different, she distinctly felt like she was hunted. Like she would never feel peace or happiness again.

Abruptly the will-o-wisp cut out leaving them stranded near an out of place thicket that grew in dark thick brambles. The thorns looked wickedly sharp and threatened any creature that stepped near it.

Draco crept forward edging around the growth. Like some sick flower blooming a small section of vines folded back in on themselves making just enough space for two to crawl into. Draco eyed it suspiciously, signalling her to wait. Hermione felt no need to chastise him for his chivalry now, whatever was in there she wanted to be far away from it. Her heart dropped when he waved her down. She shuddered as the vines closed behind them, cocooning them in tightly.

A surprisingly quaint clearing laid ahead. Peaking over what appeared to be a rough hewn rim of fallen tree trunks Hermione could make out some actual sunshine, albeit gray and weak. Long overgrown field grass tufted from the ground with no movement in the still air. An old crumbling well that, in another situation, could be considered charming served as a centerpiece for the radiating waves of thick poison. Hermione recognised it immediately and almost gagged from the assault. On the other side of the thicket it was so much more manageable. 

“It’s a misery well.” She uttered as quietly as possible. Draco nodded, twitching his finger in response. Misery wells were a very, very dark piece of accidental magic similar to pensives. A misery well started as normal wishing wells guarded by a spirit who granted the wishes as they saw fit. At some point a human with a memory to erase came across it and wished the memory away. Every memory has value, It had to be a memory so loathsome, so foul that the very person themselves could not live with it. The well-meaning spirit would deposit the memory in the well, unaware of its own doom. Slowly the memory would corrupt them, drawing forth others with awful memories to erase. Over time the evilness would suck the life from the guardian spirit leaving a hole of black magic and misery.

While misery wells were partially awful pieces of magic in a natural setting Hermione couldn’t quite figure out what they were supposed to do with it. From what she had read misery wells were a scorch mark on the nature spirits in the area but when properly contained could be excised and left to rot. A forest as old as the Schwarzwald should have no trouble keeping it contained and did appear to have isolated it effectively.

Hermione was so wrapped up in her thoughts she almost cried out when the overwhelming feeling of coldness and despair coated her. Her thoughts flickering through her mind like scared rabbits as she considered the danger and stupidity of this whole thing.  _ Why are you even here? You’re going to get him killed. You don’t deserve to have a friend like him. Look what you did to the other ones. You bring nothing but sadness and pity to everything you touch. _

Thin dark robes drifted on an invisible breeze, pale scabbed over skin hung of bony limbs that stuck out at odd angles. She had hoped to never see one again. Four dementors were floating into the clearing, sucking all life from the air around them.

0000000000000000000000000000

_ You are not worthy. _

Horrid, foul, filthy demons. He pushed the voices out of his mind. Draco had spent more than enough time around the wraithlike dark creatures to know he wanted nothing to do with them. He cast a quick silencing charm around them figuring that the dementors would not find the ball of nothingness unusual but still spoke in low tones just in case. 

“What are dementors doing here? I thought the ministry eradicated them.”

“I did too.” Hermione hissed back. She began to shiver violently.  _ This is your fault.  _ Draco forced himself to be calm and gently placed his hand on her shoulder blocking out the old images flashing across his mind.

“Push up your shields. Like when you are trying to keep me out of your head.” He coached in low soothing tones. He wished he could cast a calming spell but the dementors would be on them like bloodhounds.

“I knew you were trying to read my mind.” She almost joked, eyes glued to the floating robes.

“Nothing other than to know you can push me out, I assure you. Had to make sure you weren’t going to blow our cover.” He saw her tense, distracted by whatever images fought their way in.

“Whatever you are seeing is not real. Push it out.” Hermione relaxed just a hair, blinking owlishly. She still shook but at least seemed more in the moment.

“They must have sensed the well. I bet it is a veritable spa for them.”

“Do you have a plan? Because I don’t think the forest is open to an exit option.” When he glanced at the brambles behind them they grew over twice as thick as if daring him to try.

“Are you sure you can’t pull off a patronus?” She questioned, chewing on her lip nervously. 

“Even if I could that won’t kill it.” He muttered softly, eyes locked on the action. It was enough for his concentration to slip.  _ Because you are weak.  _ He shivered, pushing the disembodied voice away. They stared forward, the situation growing more dire by the second as the aura of despair ate at them. “We have to try to apparate out. Running is our only option.”

“What if the forest won't let us?” Hermione hissed.

“We have to try.” Draco responded calmly. “Otherwise we have to fight anyway.”

Hermione continued to shiver but nodded digging into her bag and pulling out three potions.”Just in case. It will buy us time.”

Draco gathered his fading magic and with a purposeful jump threw them forward only to shoot across the clearing before hitting an invisible wall and falling to the ground in a heap. The creatures paused for only a moment, as if caught in time.  _ You have failed.  _ Suddenly they swarmed towards him and Hermione, sensing living prey. Before he could react Hermione grabbed his hand throwing down a bottle and pulling him along. Black gas burst from the bottle blocking out every sensation into blissful nothingness and silencing the intrusive thoughts. He stumbled forward barely staying on his feet even as the smoke faded away.

She threw the other bottle at the grown below the tattered robes throwing her arm up to cover her face and her other one over his eyes even as they ran. He saw the brief remnants of a flash even through the flesh and judging from the bleaching of the grass around them along with the pained howling the light had been intense. The nearby grass had caught, leaping alive into small flames. She drew even more distance between them as they recovered. With the clearing of the smoke the voice came back with a vengeance.  _ She has to save you because you cannot save yourself. _

Before the dementors could move she lobbed the last bottle across the clearing, firing an exploding curse as it sailed above them. Runny green liquid rained down on the still stunned creatures. The earth seemed to moan for a moment before cracking open. Thick heavy vines grew up from the ground twisting and skewering the bony bodies.

They slid to a stop just short of the wall, Hermione’s wand trained on the grass. “ _ Terra cuniculum!”  _ The earth split as the magic burrowed down, coming to a jarring halt beneath the bushes, tangled in thick knotted roots.

“Fine! Blast it!” Hermione cried, turning to the thick bramble walls trapping them in. He slashed his wand, pushing power into the small section where Hermione was aiming. The twin explosion spells shot from their wands in a rush, the loud boom shaking the trees. Unfortunately any damage was quickly overgrown by the forest who seemed to have no qualms about leaving them there to die.

“Again!” She cried. They fired three more times before the first dementor broke loose. It rushed towards them in a wail only to be turned away at the last moment by the manifestation of Hermione’s rook. The patronus dove towards the creature cawing out tauntingly.

He pushed her forward just as another Dementor descended on them from above wailing as it sucked energy away from them.  _ You are nothing.  _ She held the charm and turned as she stumbled sending the rook into the creature's face forcing it back. They fought with him protecting her back firing off ineffective curses whenever a cloaked figure got too close. He worked to maneuver them from the edge of the clearing, half of which was now ablaze. They were fighting a losing battle in a shrinking arena and Hermione couldn’t keep this up forever.

“There’s nowhere left to go!” 

_ Give up and die. It is what you are best at. _

“Well do something!” Hermione shouted as her rook swooped back down repelling another attack briefly. The small silver bird was growing fainter in the thick choking smoke.

“Like what?!?” He roared, casting a quick  _ incendio _ at the robes of a nearby dementor. The light fabric caught resulting in a wail before the embers were sucked up into nothingness.

“I don’t know! Get creative! Use instinct!” Hermione shouted, sending the rook diving behind them.

“I don’t operate on instinct, Granger! And I have had 17 years of formative learning to crush down creativity into a pea sized diamond.”

“Well unless you want to end up carbonized you better do something or this whole place will burn down with our soulless corpse at the center.” Hermione coughed violently breaking her control on her patronus. With a flicker it faded out, the brighter sparks of the nearby flames taking over. _ You will watch her die, helpless to stop it. _

A horrid wail sounded as the Dementors concentrated their slow and crawling advance. He pushed Hermione behind him, shooting off what remaining spells he could as the adrenaline gave way to fear and despair.  _ You cannot save her. You cannot even save yourself. _

“Draco!” Hermione’s cry sent him spinning, a curse already on his lips. Instead he found the battle weary witch pointing her wand at him with a grave expression. The flames behind her roared, searing away the forest with a rage. She looked absolutely demonic in a horribly tempting way, a war torn goddess of smoke and flame ready to cast the very earth into the fire. He glanced down at her watch, a familiar warmth calling him.

_ Goodbye. _

“No!”

“ _ Expulso!” _

He would have sworn if he had time to. The curse hit him, forcing him into the familiar feeling of being sent away. Fortunately or unfortunately even the expulsion curse was not enough to overpower the forest. He landed in a heap on the other side of the clearing just as the creatures began to close in on Hermione, sucking away her curses and shields like air. Even from this distance, they drained him.

_ You have killed her.  _

_ You are ruin. _

_ Tainted. _

_ Death Eater.  _

One closed in, pulling at her with invisible claws while she hung loosely in the air for a moment before stumbling to the ground. Draco Malfoy was a lot of things. He had made many mistakes in his past and put himself before others countless times. He knew this. He had even watched the witch in front of him face death once before, never giving an inch as she stood at the precipice of pain and oblivion, refusing to betray her friends or her cause. She preserved the fate of the world while under wandpoint when he was too much of a coward to even pull up a convincing lie surrounded by the safety of his family. But he had grown since then. He wanted to be something better, someone good. As he watched the life being sucked out of Hermione he couldn’t stand by silently only to prolong his own death. Even if the forest opened a path behind him he wouldn't take it. The way he saw it he had no other option than to go down in a blaze of glory, even if it meant she was the only one who would ever know it. Perhaps he did have the smallest bit of bravery in him after all.

“Stay back!” He shouted above the crackling of burning and the empty cries of the dementors. He breathed out slowly schooling his focus into the tip of his wand, pushing out all other thoughts. He calmed as completely as possible forcing himself into perfect stillness. He filled his thoughts with heat and power, thinking only of destruction and white hot oblivion. His eyes opened just as a bony hand closed around her wrist and released the curse. Wild orange flames jumped from his wand in a burst of jaws and skin burning heat that he could barely feel. The dementor closest to her screamed for only a moment before being consumed by the flames as they rounded too close to the witch for comfort. With a groan he forced the flame to redirect, its course veering slightly.

He angled his wand in focused, measured movements, the jet taking on the long thin form of a serpent for a moment before crashing into a tree with a burst of gnashing teeth and a wild mane before rounding on the next target. The flames chased their quarry hungrily, Draco hunting down the faded gray cloaks one by one, jaws snapping around whole forms in fevered excitement, embers licking at every combustible item within sight. He made his way over to where Hermione had pushed herself up to a stand against the crumbling stone well, fire licking at the area around them. As the last dementor collapsed into a pile of heat and ash Draco cut the spell, thoroughly spent. It was only Hermione's loud crying that kept him conscious.

“Draco we need to go! It’s catching!” Indeed the whole clearing was on fire burning at an unnatural rate. He felt her attempt to apparate, a familiar pull at his side before it died in a weak spark of power. She groaned, collapsing into him gripping her head. As the nearest flames licked at their feet Draco turned back to Hermione pulling her into a tight embrace. 

“Don’t let go.” He whispered before falling forward into the well and dragging her with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om  
> Fool's fire:  
> Will-o-the-wisp are a commonly known phenomena that appear across northern Europe. They vary in name but all have the same story. Strings of lights appear and if you follow them something will happen. If you are virtuous it may lead you to a treasure or windfall, if you are evil it may lead you to a cliff face or in circles until you are lost. The muggle cause of fool's fire is believed to be swamp gas igniting in patches.
> 
> Misery Well:  
> A unique creation made from corrupting the most innocent of magic. Misery wells can be destroyed but the land will remain corrupted until the magic fully fades. As such the best solution is to wall them off until the eventually run dry. The more memories deposited the longer it will stand. Ever memory has value and they should not be given or taken lightly. While the human may be free of their worst memories they also lose the lesson or compassion learned from the moment.
> 
> Expulso:  
> The expulsion curse is supposed to remove any targeted item from the area. It is incredibly powerful due to its simplicity however in that same line it may have incredibly varying results. It WILL remove any item but that may be through the floo, door, window, or wall depending on what the charm decides in convenient. As such it is a very dangerous spell to use on humans and is not recommended.


	43. A Flood of Memories

Hermione felt a scream bubble up in her throat just as they hit the surface. The impact ripped her away from familiar arms and sent her swirling into the thick crawling liquid. Hermione was prepared for a harsh shock of ice water but had braced herself unnecessarily. The water at the bottom of the well was certainly cool but nothing compared to what it should be in early spring. Hermione swung her arms around her hoping to find the fabric of his cloak or the silk of his hair but felt nothing but memories and magic.

She cracked her eyes open only for a blur of muted colors to dance across her vision turning her stomach. Memories spun thickly all clamoring to the forefront of her mind insistently. The harder she pushed them away, the more determined they became, pulling at her consciousness. Finally a single memory swept to the front, spinning her into an unfamiliar field under a gray sky.

It was of war, real war. Hermione had no doubt that the magical coupe they had fought against was violent and cruel but it was nothing compared to what was before her. An exceptionally large man dressed in furs swung a crude ax, crushing the skull of another man with a wet crunch. Behind him hundreds of other humans were either dead or dying, covered in blood as weapons fell upon bodies without prejudiced. Children, women, old, sick. No one was safe as their village burned. Hermione attempted to scramble away as gore rained down on her only for the memory to move forward without pause. The man towered over her, breathing in deep ragged breaths. The crazed look in his ice blue eyes was only exacerbated by the splatter of blood that was flicked onto his face. Before he could react a sword plunged forth from his chest nearly skewering Hermione in the process. Even as she saw life fade from the barbarian, her heart still wept at the loss of him. Muggles didn’t have the unforgivables, or curses. Muggles fought and killed without the clean grace of magic... and it was brutal. The sword retreated as the barbarian fell, replaced by a man with fearful shaking eyes. He was so much smaller than the one he had just cut down, barely a scrap of a boy really, with awkward shaped limbs and still growing muscles. He dropped the sword with a wail, falling to his knees.

The memory swirled away and she found herself in a small room. The details were blurred from age but clearly in focus was a young child resting on a too large bed, a woman beside him weeping. A low fire cracked weakly in the light, a broken up chair stacked in the wood store. The boy was under a thread bare blanket and the straw bed stunk of moldy hay. Hermione could see the pock marks of plague and judging from his mother’s tears it was not one that could be cured. His glassy stare emptied as his final breath left his body in a shaky death rattle. There was silence as his weak sticky coughs faded into he air. His mother’s cries broke the moment in pure agony that made her stomach roll. When Hermione looked away she saw the rest of the household, piled against the wall having met a similar fate. Rats chewed openly on their flesh, pausing their movement for only a moment before descending towards the new addition before the water swirled away the colors.

Hermione could feel her lungs cry out for air. She dare not breathe or she may inhale the toxic water around her. Fighting down the panic she forced herself to keep as calm as possible, even if she was drawing out her own death. As she suffocated Hermione couldn’t help but think of her own worst memory in painstaking clarity. The water attacking with a renewed sense of purpose.

She was standing on a sidewalk. Red and blue lights flashed dully, a bright siren sounded in the distance. Muggles muttered in the background speaking into their radios in muted tones. A suburban front garden came into being along with a completely nondescript middle class house. The door was broken inward, barely hanging off it’s top hinge. Even in the early morning light a faint shimmer of darkness could be seen splattered against the window, tinted a deep burgundy. The memory pulled her forward in slow steps toward the door even as she fought against it. Reliving her own path in agonizing detail. She didn’t even have the mercy of screaming. As she reached out towards the door she became vaguely aware of a warmth on her wrist. The familiar feel of Draco drifted around her body, enclosing it softly. She realized that they were probably going to drown together. 

The memories swirled again and she sighed at the small mercy. The last thing she saw would still be horrid but at least it would not be her own. The images began to reform, an ostentatious dining room blurring into clarity. A woman’s face and voice she vaguely recognized as Narcissa Malfoy. The worlds came out manic and garbled, her voice full of hatred. “I’ll kill you! AVADA KADAVRA!” 

Hermione flinched as the spark of green. Her lungs gave out finally forcing a last ditch effort for air, she felt the water rush into her with burning toxicity. It was fitting that in the end she would die on the floor of Malfoy manor anyway, even if she was surrounded by the heir to it. Before she could see the target, the memory abruptly cut off as she felt a rushing sensation pull at her stomach. She felt her chest compress forcing out the bile in her lungs as she ported away. 

Hermione landed with a thick thud on grassy land, falling immediately to her hands and knees. Her chest gasped for air, intaking the oxygen greedily. She had only a moment's respite before her body remembered itself and she promptly vomited, hacking coughs interspersing themselves in between heaves. Thick watery tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. She became vaguely away from a comforting body still wrapped around hers, gentle murmurs whispered soothingly in her ears in between his own desperate pulls of breath. 

She forced open her eyes, staring at the silvery liquid as the ground below her reabsorbed it. Within seconds there was no evidence left that anything had been there at all. Her lungs and throat seared with pain. A pale hand was braced against hers, shockingly white against the verdant green. His thick platinum ring still held tendrils of memories in the black coils of the snake. Another arm was wrapped around her chest holding her up even as her own arms shook and gave out. Ever so gently she came back to herself as he lowered her down.

“It’s alright. They’re just memories. They aren’t here now. Breathe. Breathe. You are here, with me. We are out. We are safe. Just breathe.” She closed her eyes and let the deep rumbling words wrap around her. She felt him settle on the grass next to her. Instinctively she curled around his arm not in the least bit ashamed of her neediness. She felt raw and spent as if she had spent the whole day screaming while running a mile.

“Shhh. In and out. Take deep breaths even if it hurts. Focus on the here and now. Feel the grass, the sun. Match my breathing.” They laid there for what felt simultaneously like forever and no time at all. The bird song in the background felt almost traitorous given the circumstances. The warm sun on her skin felt like a lie. Even the comforting hand softly petting her waterlogged curls felt imagined and delicate. Like if she opened her eyes it would all disappear.

Finally she was able to force her inhales to match his, even as they desperately tried to spin violently out of control. She cracked open her eyes to find him staring into the sky. He looked paler than usual, his hair limp and damp. His deep gray eyes were muted and distracted even as he still muttered meaningless, comforting words. A large puffy cloud drifted by above them and Hermione finally felt her heart beat slow. If she allowed herself to imagine it he looked like they had just been swimming in a lake and were relaxing on the nearby grass. Just normal people out for a nice day. She sniffed in an attempt to staunch the weeping.

Simply for the comfort of habit she brushed the damp strands of hair onto his face. The corners of his mouth pricked up as he turned to face her, his eyes heavy with relief and the aftershocks of fear.

“That is the second time you have tried to drown on me in the past week, Granger.” His voice was breathless and strained as he lifted his spare hand to push them back. Smudges of smoke and burns decorated the seared sleeve of his casting arm, demolished by the fiendfyre. Angry red splotches broke up the pale expanse of his skin, blanching even the orange of the bloodroot stains. Heavy blisters pocketed along the worst of the burns, making her wince in sympathy. 

“That’s the second time you’ve saved me.” Hermione croaked out as his eyes shone with pride, a genuine smile gracing his face. The molten silver catching in her a wave of emotion until she was sure she would drown anyway. The realization fell on her like a spring rain, pieces over the past few months falling into place. How comfortable she had become with his presence. The loneliness when he was gone. His protectiveness, her patience, his jealousy, her recklessness. Little grains of rice piling up on the scale until it tipped the balance. She rested a gentle palm against his cheek, his face open and kind in spite of all the sharp edges as he leaned into the touch. “Oh.”

“What’s wrong?” He stiffened immediately, energy suddenly filling him as he scowled. He pushed away, tracing his hands all over her in a way that should have been clinical but felt temptingly dangerous. Her body warmed in response and she leaned into his touch. “You’re flushed. Are you hurt?”

“Uh...no.” She smiled softly trying to get a hold of herself. She blinked slowly, holding his gaze until the alarm in his eyes faded back to exhaustion. She would have to deal with all of this later, they simply did not have the energy for anymore surprises or realizations. Her after such a strong  _ expulso  _ curse and prolonged patronus. Him from… “I can’t believe you held the fiendfyre for so long. I can’t believe you’d ever use it after...”

“What other choice did I have?” He chuckled halfheartedly, staring at her with great care and concern. “It’s difficult to control, just like it's real counterpart. But, after dealing with you for the past half a year, I have developed a kind but firm hand with endless patience.”

“How dare you.” She huffed dully, knowing he was right. Judging from the slight smile on his face she would guess he knew it too.

The moment was ruined by the cold reminder of April. She shivered violently as an icy breeze still holding on to the last visages of winter drifted over their wet skin. She felt him tense. A now familiar hawthorn wand waved over them flickered with a failed warming spell. He flicked his wand again resulting in an even smaller spark.

“Sorry.” He muttered, trying to stumble upward. He looked just as spent as she felt but he still managed to ooze grace in the movement. Draco peeled off his cloak wrapping it around her, insulating her with what little warmth his body had created. Immediately guilt fell over her like a wave. Even when he was exhausted he still prioritized calming her with platitudes while she wept like a child.

“No, I'm sorry. You are half dead and still at least able to do something while I blubber like a fool.” She brushed roughly at her face.

“Snakes don’t cry Granger.” He shrugged tiredly, grabbing her wrist. A thoughtful expression stared back at her as his thumb rubbed slow circles on her pulse point.

“And Iions do?” She questioned humorlessly without pulling away.

“I have been told they will around their friends, but that seems more your area.” He smirked. They pulled each other up using the other's weight to an unstable but standing position. She was able to get her breathing under control but could do nothing about the light rivers of silent tears.

“Did you apparate us out?” He asked, sliding his wand into his pocket. They were soaked and Hermione doubted either of them would be able to perform a drying spell. “I felt the wards fall but couldn’t calm down enough.”

“No. I thought you did.” She muttered shivering in the cold. He wrapped his arm around her pulling her to a tight but warm hug. She let her arm snake under the shirt plastered to his skin and rest on his lower back. Her fingers thrummed with the blood rushing just under the surface. 

“I’m exhausted.” He murmured lightly into her head. His breath was still warm, warm and very much alive. “You don't happen to have a map with our exact location by chance do you?”

Hermione dreaded pulling away. His body felt comforting and inviting, if not damp. It was so familiar that if she could get away with it she would just wrap herself around him and stay there until well past when they were dry. How long had she felt like this? Did it really take two near death experiences to notice? That was not a habit she wanted to encourage.

Unfortunately, while frostbite was off the table, she didn’t love the idea of being stuck outside after dark. She untangled herself with a sigh immediately regretting the chill against her skin. She glanced around the field, a few discarded piles of rocks were scattered in the long grass in the divot between hills. The area looked as empty and wild as any of the multitude of fields they had seen so far. They could be anywhere.

“No.” She wandered away on shaky legs. She ignored him when he reached out to catch her, pushing down the waves of indignation and warmth. She knew if she found herself wrapped in him she wouldn’t come out again. She had to focus on getting them somewhere safe.

Hermione begrudgingly set off toward the top of the hill hoping for a vantage point. Even if they could apparate they had no idea where they were or how far they needed to travel. She mildly hoped they had the luck to appear nearby a shepherd's hut or an animal den. She would even take a well-sheltered bush at this point.

The soft crunching of grass indicated Draco was following her. His steps felt heavy with exhaustion. She had to find something for tonight. Digging in her bag she pulled out a draught of Pepper Up Potion, taking a swig. She offered the rest to him and he chugged it down gratefully. They were on a clock, they only had about an hour of energy before they crashed.

With renewed life she stomped up the hill sliding on the grass and her wet cloaks. Finally nearing the top she forced herself to think. They would get as much of a view as possible then find some place sheltered from the wind. It was nearing mid-afternoon so they could sneak in a short nap to recover their energy then try to find something by nightfall.

“Oh.” Draco’s voice pulled her focus. She turned around to find him gazing behind them. Following it she let out her own gasp. A familiar church stood in the distance, its crumbling facade a landmark against the dark looming blackness of the forest. She looked down at the rubble beneath them, making out the loose imprint of a circular fountain speckled with the dull patina of brass. The rest of the square had rotted away into nothing but anchor stones, leaving itself to be overtaken by the fields and grass.

“The town…” She breathed placing the buildings she had become familiar with in ghostly positions of where they should be. “It’s gone.”

Draco stared silently besides her. She laced her hand in his trying to ground herself. They hadn't spent much time in it true, but the people who lived there still felt like people. She still followed their stories and held conversations with them. She still pitied their inability to move forward. And now she would still mourned their loss. It would have to come later, with the potion wearing down there was no time for questions.

“Was any of that real?” He asked, his voice heavy with confusion and doubt. She pulled him toward the top of the hill, easily spotting the mill in the distance now that she knew their position. She set off down the incline not wanting to risk the splinch even on such a short jump.

“I don’t know.” She muttered with the single minded determination to get them home.

00000000000000000000000000000000

Draco shook off the hollow feeling on the walk down a previously hard packed road. The grass had overtaken the stone walls and spilled into the laneway. It was still blessedly flat as the previous accommodations came into sight. 

Draco should have known that the mill went back up too easily. The magic was too abundant, too useful, and you never get something for nothing. Already the forest was claiming what they had borrowed, overtaking the space. The walls had transfigured back to thin planks and the water wheel had collapsed into tinder. Thick brambles covered the back of the structure growing forward even as they walked towards it.

“I don’t think we can stay here tonight.” Hermione mused as they pulled to a stop near the door. The thorn bushes were growing at an alarming rate, they would probably take over the door by nightfall. It was clear whatever use they had was served and the invitation to get out, obvious.

“Let’s pack everything up.” Draco was not looking forward to the idea. As they entered the house he was immediately offended by the smell. It was the wet and musty smell of decomposing natural things. It prevaded the room as the wood around them rotted. He glanced around sighing at what they would have to leave behind. The Pepper Up Potion had less than thirty minutes left on it and they had next to no magic left. 

“We don’t have much time. We need to pack any food and likely your books. Leave anything that’s replaceable.”He eyed his couch sitting by the crumbling remains of the hearth with sadness.

“Hm? Oh, no it’s fine.” Hermione stumbled toward the perfectly intact suitcase sitting on the table. He wondered if she knew she was limping. It took her three tries to manage the simple _engorgio_ charm and the suitcase transformed into a large trunk.

Before he could start loading things in she pressed a small latch at the keyhole and Draco felt a wave of magic. The scent of cinnamon overwrote the natural mustiness for a moment before things started to move. As if following an unheard tune items shrunk themselves and lined up entering the trunk in a single file line. Fifteen minutes later the roof had caved in to the left of them and the last chair had entered her trunk. It shrunk back down to a briefcase and Hermione hauled it up with great effort dragging it out the door. As he followed he saw her pour a bright green potion over it.

“Featherweight potion.” Hermione muttered in response to his raised eyebrow. “I don’t like using it usually since it stains but I think this situation may be worth the cleaning bill.”

Her joke was heartwarming even as the crash of wet wood behind them indicated the walls collapsing. “Send me the bill. As long as I get my couch back I will pay any price. Maybe I can get it reupholstered to something less hideous.”

“Then it wouldn’t be the same couch would it?” Hermione challenged picking up the case with considerably less effort but indeed with a now bright purple stain. She sighed gazing out into the fields of grass. “I think we'll have to walk a few miles, at least as far as we can until the potion gives out. I would love a sheltered place to set up camp but I don’t think we will get that far. The only other option is the forest…”

She eyed the trees warily as small saplings began to spring up around them. Together they shuffled across the river pointedly ignoring the cracking groans of growth.

“We won’t get far enough.” Draco responded fiddling with the thick platinum band on his right hand. His fingers traced lightly over the snake.

“Probably not, but we don’t have much of another option. We can’t apparate even if we knew a point close enough.” Already he could see her flagging, her shoulders hung limply and her face grimaced in pain.

“We could go home?” Draco ventured taking the case from her. It was comically light, or it would be if he hadn’t seen how much she was struggling with it in spite of the minuscule weight.

“Aren’t we supposed to be lying low?” She questioned without much fight. “Besides the portkey won’t trigger for nearly another week.”

“They would have already searched the manor.” He commented holding up his hand. The fading sun glinted off the metal, catching her attention.

“I thought you said it could only take one.” She questioned calmly, even though he saw the panic flash in her eyes. He was a bit wounded that she honestly thought he would leave her behind but pushed past it. Neither of them were thinking very well right now and she had years of emotional walls built up around him. It was only fair.

“Well…” he trailed off wondering if she was too tired to hit him. “Technically it can carry two.”

“Okay...” She questioned clearly waiting for an explanation.

“But it has to be a witch and a wizard.” He finished with a sigh. “It was made to transport the family. So it will take the master, lady and children.”

“Your ring is conscious enough to be sexist?” Hermione questioned him in a way he would have taken for amused if she weren’t so tired.

“It’s old magic. Meant to protect the line. It doesn't matter how much I cared for Blaise, he couldn't pop out an heir so he didn't get to count." He huffed feeling the energy begin to wane rapidly. "I didn’t make it Granger, so stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” She questioned, suddenly wavering on her feet.

“Like you are disappointed in me. Hold still.” He muttered quietly as he caught her, barely holding them both up. He willed the ring awake with thoughts of home and the desire to return.

“I could never be disappointed in you Draco.” Hermione whispered as the magic surrounded them quickly, robbing the forest to fuel it. Draco figured it was the least the damned trees could do. The ring pulled in its power from the area around them, warming the air in warning. “I am very grateful for you and your stupid haunted ring.”

He chuckled as they sucked away painlessly, leaving no evidence they had ever existed in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om:
> 
> A village trapped in time:
> 
> The forest is so old that it does have some sort of sentience. The village is gone. It had existed at one point, when the dementors first arrived a couple hundred years ago. What happened to it? Who knows. The projection of the village was only for the purpose for baiting Hermione and Draco into removing the dementors from the forest and now that that they have done that the forest doesn't want them around anymore. Nature does not care for the names and titles of human's trapped within. It can only mimic the human's behavior. As a general rule old, natural magic despises humans. 
> 
> The Malfoy Family Ring:
> 
> The portkey attached to the Malfoy family ring is self supplying pulling magic from the environment around it to fuel itself. Because of this it just straight up robs the area of magic making it so that the area will forever be devoid of magic. Currently there is a perfect circle of flagstone at Hogwarts where nothing will grown and it feels icy to the touch.


	44. A Rising Tension

They landed with a light tap. Hermione was so spent she could barely stand but her adrenaline came crashing back as she felt the wards squeeze past them. Her body remembered what happened the last time it had been here and she quivered in fear in spite of herself, the last leaf on a tree caught in the autumn wind.

“Merlin you're heavy.” Draco slid to the ground with her as the last dredges of the pepper up potion wore away. Thankfully they had not landed in the dining room but instead had arrived just inside the gate, a grayish white drive stretched before them. It looked like they would be camping out after all. At least it was probably a degree warmer in the UK.

“Daisy.” Draco called out to the air. Suddenly a house elf appeared with a crack. The creature looked young with barely any wrinkles or hair. It had ice blue eyes and was dressed in a very fine lace tablecloth. Hermione wanted to find the outrage to be upset but couldn’t really be bothered. The tablecloth was nicer than some of her clothes anyway.

“Daisy has passed. I am Filly! You must be Master! Filly is so happy to serve!” The house elf bowed, a difficult process considering they were already collapsed on the front lawn. It resulted in the creature basically lying flat on its face.

“Hello Filly. It is unfortunate to meet you under these circumstances.” Draco muttered politely, raising his hand to his head. Hermione dug around in her potions bag for a headache tonic without being asked. She had started carrying them a few months ago- a pained Draco was a snippy Draco. At first it was only so they could still work, then it was because he was her friend. She started to do it naturally, like most things with him.

“It is always fortunate to see the Master! The house misses you, it does.” Filly responded with a nod. Hermione was grateful that her first aid potions were right at the top and she pulled out the tonic without having to accio it. If she even could. She handed it off to Draco after ripping out the cork and he threw it back without a second thought.

“We need to rest.” Draco responded. 

“Shall Filly take you inside? The Master’s bedroom has been kept in perfect repair for the Master and his Lady.” The house elf nodded towards Hermione with something akin to awe. She felt discomforted by the stare and flushed.

“No. Not the manor.” Draco responded not bothering to correct the creature on her status. “The guest house in the back garden. The one with the irises.”

“An excellent choice Master!” Filly purred, holding out her hand. Draco grabbed it, tightening his hold on Hermione’s shoulder as they whipped across the grounds. They arrived in a cheery bedroom with pastel purple walls. A thick oak four poster bed was strung with sky blue linens and looked so remarkably soft and welcoming Hermione almost cried. The fireplace leapt to life with a roaring blaze instantly heating the room. She stumbled towards the bed even as she felt the weak pinch of a scourgify bounce off her. 

“Fuck.” Draco muttered.

“If the Master allows?” Filly responded with a snap. Hermione felt the cooling water of Draco’s magic wick away the stagnant water and sweat from the day. Even her hair barely smelled of burning as she hit the bed, the sheets pulling over her automatically.

“Thank you Filly.” He muttered leaning on the mantle with a groan.

“If the Master does not require anything else?” Filly questioned. Draco shook his head and she apparated away with a crack. He stumbled toward the door unevenly. She hated the pathetic whine that escaped her throat but it was enough to stop his retreat.

“Are you alright?” He questioned hurrying over to the bed clumsily. “I forgot to check if you were injured. Let me get Filly back.”

“I'm fine.” She rushed out tiredly. Resting her hand gently on his for courage, tracing light circles around his wrist. He shivered lightly but didn't pull away. She wondered momentarily how they had gotten so comfortable with touching each other. “I just thought you should come straight to bed. You are as exhausted as I am.”

“I am. The room just across the hall…” He trailed off as she stared at him meaningfully. She was much too tired to be dealing with silly boys and their propriety today.

“Don’t make me say it.” She murmured out suddenly very aware they were back in Britain, where he had a public life and she did not. But she had spent her whole life being altruistic and she could blame it on being tired. Just this once she would be selfish. He dragged his hand through his hair, staring pointedly at the door.

“Hermione… I can’t-”

“Stay. Sleep.” She pulled him lightly down next to her, the sheets folding back. With significantly less effort than it should have taken he collapsed with a sigh. He lazily threw an arm over her pulling her lightly against his body. Through the open neck of his shirt Hermione became aware of the exhausted muscles twitching in his chest and set about lightly rubbing them into stillness.

“I’m sorry I got you into this mess.” She murmured staring up at the face. His hair was still greasy but dry and fell against his forehead haphazardly. He had closed his eyes, deep vibrations of pleasure reverberating through his chest as she worked.

“Well I suppose I better get used to it.” He murmured lightly. Hermione watched his lips move, still managing to look delicate and graceful. The implication in the words drew forth a happy purr from her throat. The guilt at the small nugget of joy was overrun by a desperate need to explain herself.

“About what…. You saw.” She began as the last vestige of wakefulness began to edge away and she stilled. Draco’s eyes cracked open, half lidded and dull.

“We will talk later.” He mused softly, his eyes meeting hers. There was a small spark of fire in them of protectiveness and a flame to dangerous to mention. Had that always been there, even the past week? How had she not noticed? The thought burned through Hermione willing the exhaustion and shame away before it was swiftly quenched by her aching muscles.

“Okay… ” She whispered, still staring up at him, all sated possession and quiet understanding. How long has he known? He had to have known. He couldn’t be looking at her like that and not have known. How long had he been looking at her like that? Merlin.

He was so beautiful in the glittering sunlight, even with the small thorn scratches on his cheeks and soot stains on his lashes. Her eyes drifted to his lips somehow familiar to her. He smirked lightly, raising a soft hand to her cheek. Oh, he definitely knows.

“Finally caught on then?” She quivered at his voice, thick with the trials of the day and implications that stood unspoken. It melted around her in a sultry silk not unlike the feel of his magic.

“Well you see. I’m considered quite clever.” She murmured faintly, leaning into his hand and looking up. Her lips brushed against his palm and she felt him shiver even as his eyes burned into her. “Night Draco.”

Her heart jumped wearily as he slowly pressed his lips against hers. It was just a moment, demanding nothing but laying bare feelings she had missed completely. Merlin she was dense. He pulled away with a deeply satisfied smirk. Hermione would have remarked on it if she hadn't been so tired. Instead her body relaxed in a rush of warmth and happiness as he nuzzled into her hair, closing his eyes.

“Night Granger.”

**  
  
**

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Draco woke with a groan,his body forcing his consciousness to the surface even as he screwed his eyes shut. Slowly the world around him was becoming more pervasive, from the bird song to the sandy shifting of sheets. He was still exhausted and the muscles in his arm burned with the after effects of Fiendfyre forcing it to twitch randomly, rubbing the blankets against his tender skin. The astringent scent of medical balm told him that Filly had already snuck in this morning. He threw his good arm out lazily, wholly unsurprised to find no one there. His mind flicked through complicated thoughts that he had no business addressing right now.

He sat himself up, leaning against the headboard, and glanced around the room in the early morning light. There was no sign Hermione had been there at all. He cast a quick _tempus_ charm, placing them at a far too early 7:00am. Not that it meant anything to him, they could have arrived yesterday afternoon or in the middle of the night for all he knew. He was in the middle of working up the resolve to go look for her when the bathroom door swung open silently.

He quirked his brow as she exited wrapped in a shamefully long towel and a cloud of steam. Letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding he sighed, causing the witch to jump and conjure her wand from...somewhere? Possibly somewhere very interesting.

“Jesus Christ.” Her voice was gravelly with sleep and probably not lacking damage from the amount of water she had inhaled. Rowana only knew what was in it. Her eyes flew to him with a wave of relief that warmed him slightly. She slid her wand back into the floods of cotton. He still wasn’t sure exactly how it was held up though.

“No, just me.” He smiled pulling his knees up to drape his arms over them and allowing the blankets to pool over his lap. He cocked his head to the side with a smirk wondering when exactly she would realize the situation.

“It’s too early for this. I almost hexed you!” She hissed casting a weak drying charm on her hair, just enough to stop the dripping.

“Well if I were asleep I would still be here.” He reasoned throwing in a devilish wink. Finally she seemed to adjust to his presence enough to process her state of dress. Surprisingly she didn’t squeak and dive back into the bathroom as he thought she might. A high colored blush did tinge her cheeks before she set her lips into a firm line. She strode forcefully over to the side of the bed she had slept on, rummaging around for her clothes.

“They won't be there Granger.” He called over the larger bed, a damp mop of reshaping curls floating listly in view. The towel wrap easily hit her knee and seemed to be stuck in place. Pity. “You think my house elf would deign to allow such filthy things lying around such a pristine room.”

Her answering glare was enough to shock him out of the careless pose. He was already regretting the words before she spoke. “Do you want to try that again Malfoy?”

“No.” He shot back pushing himself out of bed with a groan. “It was poor phrasing but I stand by the sentiment.” His pants had tangled around his legs at some point in the night and he went to work on adjusting them. His shirt had been vanished and he made a point to catch eyes as he stretched, appreciating the blush sprinkled across her cheeks.

“Am I expected to wear this towel all day?” Hermione questioned as she gestured wildly. He was sure if the damn thing wasn’t secured by magic it would have fallen off by now. Again, pity.

“I am not opposed to it.” He ducked before he had finished the sentence, a thick pillow flying past his head. “But if you insist.”

He meandered toward the bathroom, noting the fair bit of distance Hermione was keeping from him. A part of him was wounded that she thought he may attack her or something, the other part figured that if he was already guilty of it in her mind he might as well. Any action was saved by the very obvious appearance of two sets of towel and a matching pair of thick dark emerald bathrobes. He continued onto the pastel green and white tiles to snatch up the smaller one and held it out to her. 

“These weren’t here earlier.” She murmured lightly.

“Maybe you didn't look hard enough.” He responded with a yawn. Merlin, why was he even up at this hour?

**"Yes. I can see how I would miss something that was right in front of me."** She rolled her eyes, a light smile teasing at the corner of her mouth. Her skin was still flushed from the steam and while her eyes looked tired they were distinctly less hollow than yesterday.

"Glad you see it my way." She smacked his chest lightly. "It's probably because you aren't the master."

“I don’t need your clingy house, I found my own towel.” She huffed and gestured down to the thick black cotton that was currently wrapped around her. It took him a moment to recognize it.

“Where did you find that Granger?” He questioned with a wide grin.

“... the closet.” She responded suspiciously. “Next to the kitchen.”

“The one with all the horse tack?” He raised an eyebrow, leading her.

“Yes?”

“And you didn’t find that strange at all?” He crooned, watching her squirm. "Do you store your horse tack with the linens?"

“I don’t know. Maybe your family is into that sort of thing. Which, for the record, I am NOT!” She huffed shaking out her hair. Draco tried to be annoyed when a few droplets of water hit his face but he was unable to overpower the sweetness of the action.

“You are rude and uncultured.” He remarked leaning against the cool tile of the wall. His skin barked in protest but he chose to ignore it. “That is a riding blanket…. As in for horses not people. Not that I should have to clarify.”

Hermione paused for a moment, her next retort dead on her lips as she looked down abruptly. He saw her cheeks flushed before she looked back up with a devious smile. “The house probably thinks anything more is above my station. ”

“Oh don’t be like that.” He responded to her back as she began to flounce out of the bathroom. He was prepared for a long and awkward breakfast of cold shoulder when she turned her shoulder, a teasing smile on her face.

“It was a joke, Malfoy. Loosen up.” He caught himself beginning to smile when his eyes flicked down to her shoulder. An angry faded splotch of purple stained her skin from her collar bone down past the trim of the towel. In a single step he was next to her, his hand tracing lightly around it while he swore.

“I thought you said you weren’t injured.” He hissed. Her hair must have hidden it earlier and judging by the way she trembled it hurt quite a bit. Insolent, know-it-all chit. He may have been able to keep it from scarring if he treated it right away, now...

“What?” She questioned honestly, her breath hitching slightly. He flicked his eyes back to hers only to be met with a curiously glazed look. Following his finger she glanced down to her shoulder and sneered slightly. “Oh... That.”

“Yes. That.” He responded, pulling his wand to run over it with his magic. He felt her shiver as it touched her, seeping through the skin and looking for any damage. She batted him away gently.

“It’s old. Just a scar from when Dolohov hit me with that mystery curse back in fifth year.” Her eyes flicked back to him cautiously. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, honest.”

“It looks awful.” He growled angrily. Fifth year. She would have been fifteen. Dolohov cursed a _fifteen_ year old with a hacking curse. He couldn’t repress the shudder of the more public memories of that curse attached to the dining room in the manor proper. 

“Yeah.” She laughed weakly, as she stepped away. “I’m pretty torn up aren’t I. I won a war and all I got were these ugly scars, right?”

“I didn’t mean-”

“I know.” Hermione finished with a firm nod, pulling her hair over the mark. “I’ll make some breakfast.”

“No let me-” He tripped over the words trying to cover up his thoughtlessness. It was inelegant, clumsy. The whole thing was out of character for him. He was supposed to be suave and charming. Fuck. He really needed more sleep, why was he even up right now?

“No. Seriously Draco. I am fine.”

“I can at least help.” He crossed his arms indignantly but he was most definitely not pouting.

“You can help by getting in that shower, you smell like death.” She crunched up her nose in an adorably cute scowl. He ran his hand through his hair in an effort to hide his smile only to be horrified when he touched something slimy that fell apart as he pulled his hand away.

“Fair point. I’ll be out shortly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> House elf magic:  
> House elf magic is keyed to their owners. Without a bonded owner house elves have much weaker magic. As a result of this, Filly's magic will feel like Draco's.


	45. An Awkward Ridged Laugh

Hermione stared aggressively at the bowl of yolks happily whisking away in front of her. She sliced some spring onions with perfect precision only for the knife to flick away from her hand to continue its chopping. The room was filled with the calming cool silk of Draco’s magic and her own intentions were overpowered. With a sigh she changed the breakfast plan from poached eggs to omelettes and set about directing the magic as much as she could. By the time Draco padded into the kitchen looking extremely comfortable and strikingly handsome in his oversized robe the pan had just drifted to the table and begun to unfold the egg mixture from its surface. She took her seat as a tea and coffee pot filled their respective cups, two copies of the Prophet appearing on the table.

“I did say you would make a good housewitch once.” He sipped the coffee, relishing the flavor. “My favorite breakfast and coffee just the way I like it. What service.”

“You did this.” She huffed taking a bite of her eggs, trying not to melt at the perfectly creamy texture. She knew the fundamentals of cooking, enough to feed herself with some level of skill, but this was divine. “I could feel your magic stealing the whisk from me.”

“I wasn’t even in here.” He snorted, flicking open the paper with narrowed eyes. 

“Tell that to the floating bowl of eggs that did not want to be poached this morning.” She huffed lightly. He raised an eyebrow at that.

“What?” She questioned testily as she stabbed at her meal, barely giving any attention to her own periodical.

“Probably just the house then. I suppose it is linked to me now.” He shrugged lightly as she half read an article about weather patterns in Kent.

“That seems like an unnecessary drain on your magic.” Hermione responded cordially. It felt strange, having early morning quips over the breakfast table. She briefly wondered if this is what her life would be like right now if she had never left. Certainly not with Draco but maybe with... someone else. It could have been a nice sort of life.

“I have lived here since I was a child.” He sighed as if put out by her ignorance on centuries old haunted houses. “It has been storing my magic for years. Nothing short of an all out attack will be able to deplete its backlog. Even then it probably has some left over from previous generations. Not that I feel like testing that theory with you here.”

“Afraid the house may barbecue your little mudblood pal?” She shot back, feeling only slightly guilty at his flinch.

“No it wouldn’t do that.” He folded the paper and set it down next to him. “I believe my mother mentioned it preferred opening up sinkholes underfoot. Any particular reason you are looking to pick a fight or just your usual charming personality?”

"It was a joke." She muttered, sipping at her tea delicately as he watched her with a critical eye. Finally his attention flicked back down to the paper, his tone even as he spoke. "If you are looking for a fight this morning then I will give you one, but don't be so cowardly as to claim it as a 'joke'. If you are going to go on the attack, you better make the first strike decisive because you will not be getting a second one."

She scoffed, closing up her own paper to regard him. He stared at her from across the table, his eyes flitting across her face and arms. They locked on to the light port wine scar that peaked out from the deep fold of her matching robe before settling back on her eyes.

“You look dead.” He remarked baldly.

“Thanks.”

“Sorry.” He sighed letting out the tension in his shoulders and looking distinctly less threatening as a result. “I know there’s a lot to… discuss but I’m not very good at this whole feelings thing, I probably never will be.”

“Well you picked a terrible..." She stumbled over the words, not sure how to title whatever they were. "You shouldn't have picked me then.” He regarded her calculatingly as if she were a particularly difficult equation. His gaze seemed to cool as he came to a somewhat positive conclusion.

“Well I didn't really pick you but here we are... and I am trying.” He mused leaning back in his chair. The gesture opened up his posture, in the process warming the mood of the conversation. “Which is more than I can say for you.”

“Bold words considering the amount of times I have saved your sorry behind.” She joked dancing around the topic. “I’m exhausted.”

“Then why are you awake?” He questioned as if he had been expecting the statement. “It’s not like there was anything pressing keeping you from returning to bed after your shower.”

“I was hungry.” She deflected eyes drifting down to her tea. 

“Magic houses make excellent room service.” 

“I had to find clothes.” She glared at him, annoyed to only find a smug grin reflected back at her. “I was not about to crawl in bed naked with you.”

“Not yet anyway.” Draco muttered and she pretended not to hear it. Another thought she could deal with later.

“You can go back to sleep at any time, I don’t need a babysitter.” She huffed resisting the urge to storm from the room like a child. It would probably ruin the effect of her previous statement.

“I’d rather not.” He responded evenly, the soft dove gray swirling in his eyes cut off her fire almost instantly. For someone who was not very good with emotions he sure was transparent about them. “Hermione?”

Hermione sighed, remembering her few moments of confusion after waking. The unfamiliar setting echoed with the calls of sirens and static in the background. “I had a bad dream.”

“I see.” He responded blandly, eyes locked onto her. She could see him holding back the question.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Everyone has bad dreams. It’s nothing major.” A thick silence fell over the room and Hermione actually felt Draco’s magic trickle away from her as the house withdrew back to him. The cooling blanket was replaced by still, dry air. It felt both empty and stagnant at the same time.

“I won’t ask you to talk about it.” He ventured. The slight twitch in his fingers was the only tell that he was struggling to stand by that fact. “But I am here. If you want.”

“It was just a bad dream.” She offered weakly, keenly feeling the absence of magic. She suddenly felt hollow, as if the energy to exist was no longer available. She wasn’t sure if it was because he was taking hers or had been gifting his.

“It is the least I can offer.” He responded without removing his gaze. She shifted uncomfortably, her breath coming in short spurts.

“C-can you stop that?”

“Stop what?” He responded immediately glancing around in confusion.

“The house. Whatever you are doing with the house.”

“I don’t understand. I am not doing anything.”

“You’ve pulled all your magic away. It feels… dead without it. I’ll tell you… just not when it’s like this” In an instant Hermione felt his magic return washing over her in familiar comfort as if seeking her out. She sighed deeply allowing herself to revel in it for only a moment before opening her eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you could feel my magic.” He was gazing at her curiously, if not a bit uncomfortably.

“It’s not exactly in the Hogwarts curriculum no. But I have spent enough time around you to recognize it, Malfoy.” It took years for her to convince Harry to learn and Ron just never could manage. It was too subtle of a signal for most people who had spent their lives surrounded by the quiet embrace of magic. “You feel like water, sliding through my fingers. Vaguely cool and silky.”

“Oh.” He responded, meeting her eyes. They flashed with emotion for a brief moment before settling back into the guarded surface. Clearly waiting for her to begin.

“I think we will be avoiding the memory dive. Although I suppose you could just break through my barriers anyway if you wanted to.” She joked lightly. The humor fell on deaf ears judging by the scowl on his face.

“I’d never do that to you.” He offered quietly. She paused, poking at her breakfast as she gathered her thoughts. He questioned when she didn’t continue.“It’s why you disappeared isn’t it?” 

“I always wondered why you never asked.” She murmured while she swirled her tea. “I mean... You’ve asked about Ron and Harry but you've never _really_ pushed.”

“If you had wanted to tell me you would have.” 

“I had always intended to come back.” She mused lightly, taking comfort in the feeling of magic around her as she set down her cup. The weak morning light was soothing and when she concentrated she could feel him rippling around her. It was helpful in a grounding sort of way.

“Yet something went wrong.” He finished and the magic stilled, no less comforting but with an air of hesitance. His voice dropped low, starting awkwardly. “Did you kill someone?”

“No!” Her eyes flicked back to him immediately horrified and pulled out of the gentle moment. He sighed audibly and sank back into his chair.

“Thank, Merlin. Not that I would judge you if you had.” His eyes focused on her again, his magic seemingly sagging in relief. It was so much stronger here, she could only wonder if her workshop had the same result on him. Probably not considering the lack of generational wealth “So then... the memory.”

"Yeah... the memory." She was silent for a good long while, letting the haze roll around her, flicking away heat from her body in relaxing waves. When she finally spoke she was aware of the waver to her voice. She hated it; it felt weak.

“I obilvated my parents… during the war.” She chose a spot on the counter to stare at. The happy little sunflowers on the tile seemed perfectly out of place for the situation.    
  


“I had heard. An excellent piece of magic from what I read.” His voice was neutral and bland. withholding any judgement. If she closed her eyes it felt a bit like talking to a wall. Maybe that would be enough to get her through this.

“So they say.” She nodded as her tea refilled. “I sent them to Australia, to keep them safe from the war. I- I didn’t know what Voldemort would do if he found them.” She hated how much the statement sounded like justification. “It seemed like the best option at the time.”

“It probably was.” He responded from across the table. Hermione felt the aura stutter at the name but it returned to it’s previous steadiness after a breath, continuing to calm her like a purring kitten. She knew she was relying too heavily on it, on him, for something so delicate and new. “He was not a merciful wizard.”

“He was not.” She agreed.

“He never found them though.” He stated with a bitter finality of someone who would have certainly known if the Dark Wizard had located her parents. Their blood would probably be soaking the floor of his dining room a few hundred meters away.

“No. I did a... thorough job.” Hermione confirmed tripping over the words as she tried to direct the conversation. It felt unwieldy, trying very hard to tear itself away from her and tumble into a rambling mess rather than a discussion. And it had to be a discussion, otherwise she didn’t know what would happen. “So through, in fact, that no one could undo it.”

“Oh.” Draco commented quietly.

“The healers spent ages trying. I even attempted to enlist the help of the centaurs and the fae, but they were unwilling to interfere with muggles.” Hermione steadied herself for the easiest part of the story. “So I did what I always have done. I researched. I spent more of my last year at Hogwarts in the library and potions classroom than going to actual classes.”

“Brightest witch of her age.” She heard him chuckle lightly. It burned her, even if he didn’t understand why.

“I’ve always hated that title. At first it felt like something to prove, now it just feels like something I can never measure up to.” She murmured.

“Sorry.” He offered awkwardly, his magic shivering around her.

“It is what it is. Great expectations and all that.” She sighed not wanting to stop but not wanting to continue the story. 

“I can’t believe you managed to still sweep your NEWTs with so much going on.” He responded, hoping to lighten the mood. Unfortunately he had just stepped into another trap.

“I didn’t.” She growled. “I actually should have failed my charms NEWT. I had spent all night trying to find some Bog Myrtle in bloom and was exhausted. The examiner asked me to perform the protean charm. I couldn’t get it right. I failed.” Even the word sounded sour on her tongue. 

“Who cares about a stupid letter, Granger.” He answered quietly.

“Apparently no one. I, of course, was so ashamed. That was  _ my  _ charm. I mastered that before our fifth year and I butchered it. All five of the coins turned a different color from each other then exploded.” She paused, pulling herself away from the spiral. “But it didn’t matter. The examiner knew who I was. She simply brushed it aside and marked my O anyway. After all, she already knew all the stories. She knew I was the ‘Brightest Witch of My Age’ and could certainly cast it. I was just tired. I was just having an off day. I was just out of practice. She sent me out of the examination in record time with a kind smile and assurances of passing.”

“I bet you hated that.” He chuckled lightly, the sound was out of place and stilted. “You always demanded excellence in yourself.”

“I did.” Hermione had always had to fight so hard to get anywhere in the magical world. She would rather fail than know she had not merited the score. “In any event, I finally created the Elixir. Headmistress McGonagal was so proud of me she actually bought me my work table as a graduation gift.”

“It is quite impressive. Not even out of school and already finishing your Mastery Mark.” 

“Maybe that’s why I don’t care about it.” She mused. “I don’t know if I earned it or if I just got it in the healthy afterglow of the war.”

“You deserved it. That potion is a damn work of art. Memory charms are no easy medium.” He responded in defense. He seemed neither impatient or distracted, happy to let her telling wander where it may. She risked a glance at him only to find him still focused on her, leaning forward over the table, his hands clasped together below his chin. She avoided his eyes.

“It was supposed to restore their memories.” She continued desperately wanting to be done. “Slowly of course. Over time they would start merging dreams with reality and afterwards we could have worked through whatever was left.”

“Not exactly the use the Ministry had in mind.” He smirked and Hermione took comfort in it.

“I suppose not. Anyway, Headmistress McGonagall arranged an international portkey, accompanying me to bring my parents home.” She choked lightly but if he noticed he didn’t remark on it. “We arrived on a Saturday, around seven o'clock at night. I should have known better. Jean and Dan Granger always had date night on Saturday, Monika and Wendell Wilkins were no different.”

She felt herself sliding away and gripped the table to remain focused. “Rather than go find them as Headmistress McGonagall suggested I- I said we should let them have their last night. That we could come back in the morning. That I had waited two years, what was one more night.”

Even she could hear the bitterness in the last statement. She had always been so sure of herself, never doubting her judgement. She should have listened to someone else. Someone older and wiser. Her arrogance had cost her dearly.

“We came back the next morning. Dad should have been making the sausage while mom read the paper, she always burned them.” Hermione added with a sad smile before her emotions hardened. “But we were met by muggle police tape.”

“It was the most unpredictable thing… No one could have ever planned for it. Just the standard sort of muggle violence that could happen to anyone, a robbery gone wrong. My parents arrived home twenty minutes too early and startled them.” She felt her eyes water, the tears she had cried too many times over offered little comfort to her now. “They killed my mother first, probably out of shock, then my dad... I- It was probably a mercy really, I have never seen anyone love anything like he loved her. I can’t imagine he would have been able to even live half of a life without her.”

She found herself staring at his watch. The perfect replica of one she was never able to find. Her heart ached weakly, the old wounds were so scarred over it was barely more than a hollow echo. 

“When I came back, everything was so normal. Everyone was so happy the war was over and people were moving on with their lives, their mourning period over.” Her voice cracked and she finally met his eyes. Deep mercurial pools of empathy and sorrow greeted her. A thin shadow of pain flickered across his face and her control slipped. She let the grief wash over as it had countless times before taking refuge in the stormy sea as the tears fell heedless of her shame. “Mine wasn’t. Gin and Harry were getting married and it was all anyone could talk about. Molly threw herself into wedding planning even though the loss of Fred tore at her. She still met every day with a smile when I could barely get out of bed. Every little thing reminded me of them, I would break down in the kitchen as Molly washed dishes or would lose my breath after seeing Arthur sit in front of the fireplace. It was just so  _ unfair _ .” Her stuttering breath shook her voice but she plowed forward, unable to stop no matter how unhinged she sounded. “Even George,  _ George  _ who had lost half of himself, had started to smile again. I know we lost so many people and I know it’s selfish but why did  _ I _ have to lose both of my parents? Hadn’t I already given this stupid world everything? My childhood, my knowledge, my body, my-”

Her voice had pitched to a sob which broke with a jarring gasp, tears dripping down her cheeks like trails of acid, burning her skin with their warmth. It felt like all the toxicity in her life had come pouring out of her, desperate to destroy her in the process. She became vaguely aware of a light touch on her shoulder, then her back. His hand twisted into her hair, guiding her head forward. It took her a moment to open her eyes.

She was greeted by slow, even breaths echoing through his shoulder and strands of icy blonde hair. For a moment she couldn’t help but wonder if the Fae queen was right and he had been a changeling for all his cold beauty. She buried her face in his neck shamelessly as he held her, refusing to meet his gaze. The racking sobs wore away, a raw empty hole in her chest hollowed itself out until she had nothing left to give it. Even in this she wasn’t enough.

As she calmed she became aware of a tight pulling sensation at the back of her head. Finally building up the courage she leaned back glancing up hesitantly to meet his eyes. She was relieved to find not pity, but compassion. The kind of benevolence that didn’t tell her not to cry or encourage her to push her pain away. His face flashed briefly with annoyance and she came back to herself.

“I am so sorry.” She pulled back immediately embarrassed, wiping at her likely ruined face. She yanked up the fabric of the robe that threatened to spill off her shoulder, bumping against his arm as she did so. “I swear I don't usually cry this much. That was so-”

“Knock it off, Granger. You’re fine.” He growled, pulling her back to his chest gently. She only struggled a bit before settling back against him. “Cry if you need to. No one is here to see.”

“I don’t think I have anything left.” She murmured lightly against the soft cotton. Even away from his own clothes and his soap she could still breath in the scent of rosemary and lavender. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You didn’t.” He responded.

“You looked…annoyed.” He stilled as an awkward silence fell. Hermione only had a moment to worry before he cleared his throat.

“Your hair is trying to eat me.” He delivered flatly.

“Wha-” Hermione drew back quickly only to be yanked slightly to the side as his arm fell away, knotted in her curls. “Ow! Draco!”

“Well whose fault is this? Don’t you own a brush!” He hissed standing up to detangle themselves. She felt the chuckle bubble up lightly, refilling the horridly deep hole in her chest, at least for now.

“You don’t brush curly hair! Not unless you want it to be the size of a carriage!” 

“Well it’s too late for that, so I just suggest you lean into it.” He swore as he finally extracted his hand and she began to giggle in spite of herself. She still felt terrible, but less heavy. It was good to talk to someone after all these years. He stared at her, a small smile quirking up at the edges of his lips before glancing at his chair. In one elegant movement he summoned it next to her, settling close enough to rest his hand on hers. After a measure of silence he spoke again, his tone still neutral but with an underlying concern laced through it. “Do you want to finish?”

  
  


“Sure.” She took a deep breath. She could do this, there wasn’t much left. “After a time people stopped being so understanding, sick of the gray pallor I cast over the whole household I suppose; so I left. I went to Africa first. It was only going to be for a few months, a year at most. Just enough to catch my breath. But I just sort of kept wandering. Japan, Mexico, Scandinavia, Russia… it’s all a blur now. Every time I went somewhere new I promised myself I would come back. I just had a few more things to do. Eventually I ran out of money and started to sell spare potions. Over time they turned into proper shops, filling a need based on the remoteness of the places I went. Before I knew it years had passed and everyone was so different and… I just… didn’t belong anymore. I couldn’t be anything other than a reminder to them, the one who was stuck in the past.”

“Foolish witch, they would never think that.” He sighed, rubbing her hand softly. “That is just something you told yourself.”

“You weren’t there!” She shot back, immediately on the defensive.

“I know.” He paused carefully as if gathering his words. “But I have seen the wrath of Mother Weasel during that search. Even a month later I could still hear her screaming about you across the auror department, granted I had no idea you were the cause. I saw all the members of the DA stalking the street of Diagon Alley, handing out signs like you were a milk carton child. Hell, we are currently hiding out, on my ancestral land where you were tortured, because Potter can’t accept a break up. You aren’t nothing to them, they love you.”

“You don’t get it.” Hermione sighed wearily.

“I do. I do get it.” He responded. “I know it seems like you are trapped and you are. But it is in a web of your own making.”

She paused, considering it. She had figured Molly would throw a fit, if for no other reason that it was her character. She hadn’t known about the DA bit. Neville and Luna never told her. They really never talked about her leaving, it was why she liked them. Which only meant one thing, possibly more crushing than the rest. “Even if that were true I have pushed away everyone I have ever known for nothing. They will hate me for that if nothing else. And I am still not okay even all these years later.”

“You don’t have to be okay.” Draco quoted. “No one is really okay anymore. No matter how much you may think otherwise.”

“But Harry-”

“Is stalking you and, by association, me on, what is at best, a shaky suspicion.” He snapped. “I wouldn’t exactly consider him the picture of mental health right now.”

They sat in silence for a while, Hermione too tired to try to explain it to him. He was tracing the lines on the back of her hand, dragging his fingers up and down the taunt tendon massaging out years of stress and writing. She was exhausted again, the temporary energy from breakfast all but extinguished. He looked no better. The Fiendfyre had taken its toll, his arm covered in the bright red of burns and the thin layer of the healing cream she had left out for him tinted it blue. The skin already looked better. 

She ventured standing up slowly as so not to dislodge his hand from hers. He stared at her for a brief moment, looking up into her eyes. The sun had risen higher and dashed across his face in a splatter of golden warmth. The ash eyes were as soft as she had ever seen them, touchingly delicate and careful as if she was just a hair away from snapping. Maybe she was. 

“Let’s go back to bed. I am still exhausted.” He only hesitated for a moment, rising to join her. In one slight twist of her wrist his fingers traced down her palm to entwine with hers lightly. He winced slightly as their skin touched, the heat from his burns warming her skin. She smiled lightly, hoping it offered him whatever assurance he needed that she would be fine. She just needed time. It would all get better in time. It had to... maybe it already had.

Finally he sighed dramatically, pushing back his hair with one fluid motion, even though it hadn’t fallen out of place. He cocked his lips into a familiar smirk releasing the tension from his shoulders. “I suppose. It’s not like we will be missed for having a lie in.”

“We’re on holiday remember.” Hermione teased, wiping roughly at her face with the sleeve of her robe. She was sure she was a mess after such an ugly sobbing session but that wasn’t anything that couldn’t wait. “Holiday means sleep, Malfoy.”

“So I have been known to point out to curly-haired witches libel to work themselves to death.” He chuckled leading them back to the room. Hermione felt blessed that the house elf had clearly cleaned up while they ate. The sheets on the bed had been changed and settling into the soft mattress held no memory of the previous day.

Overtaken by exhaustion she curled into his chest, pushing his robe away from his skin. She wanted the contact, wanted to feel his still beating heart to reassure herself that she was not alone and he was in fact alive. He exhaled sharply, his arms shifting beneath the sheets. Ever so gently, she felt the tips of his fingers brush softly under her chin guiding it upwards.

His gaze was painted with a touch of melancholy, a hue that made her heart ache for him even though there was no pity left to spare for herself. She had unloaded too much on him. She took too much and left him with nothing. This is what was wrong with her, she could never manage to stand on her own. 

As if reading her thoughts he rolled his eyes.  “You’ll be the death of me Granger. I swear it.” 

He smirked, his eyes flickering with humor as he brushed his lips against hers, as equally careful and delicate as last night. Much more aware, her body shivered and she pressed herself into him, taking solace in the presence he provided. After spending her morning whirling through memories he was solid. He was here. When everything and everyone else had been stripped away somehow he had found his way to her side. Call it fate, call it luck. That didn’t change the way she hated the idea of letting him go.

His hand tightened against her back, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. Her pulse jumped to a hammering beat, smashing against her skin, reminding her she was alive. Here. In the present. The swell of her chest rubbed against his with blissful friction and warmth, promising something she didn’t have in her. With agonizing slowness she pulled away, too tired to consider anything else. When she opened her eyes he was blinking owlishly at her. His newly reddened lips settled into a small grin, genuine and rare to grace his face. He let his head fall back into the pillow, closing his eyes. She reached a lazy hand to brush some hair into his face. He chuckled lightly but left the strands brushing against his cheek bone.

“Have good dreams, Granger.”

“Sleep well, Malfoy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building With Om  
> This Old House:  
> Ancestral homes develop a sort of sentience over time, reacting to their owners needs and wants. This happens due to the excess magic leaking off of wizards over the course of generations. As such the house will try to tend to the Master's desires first and foremost. Even if this means overriding other actions... like breakfast.
> 
> Tales of the Trio:  
> Naturally as the war wound down the exploits of Hermione, Ron, and Harry became public knowledge. Eventually a book was published with the assistance and reports based off of public record and interviews of various students who attended Hogwarts at the time. The information was addressed in a fairly factual, direct way and didn't stray too far from the truth.


	46. A Line Crossed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Importation complication:  
> There are no fire flies in Britain. As such after seeing them on a visit to the America's in 1604 one of the Malfoy Ancestors imported a small population for his wife and children. Without any natural predators they began to explode in population leading to a over sized colony by the lake.
> 
> An Auguary's cry:
> 
> Auguarys are in cannon birds known as the Irish Phoenix. For hundreds of years wizards thought their cries were an omen of death and avoided them. In all actuality their cries just indicate a coming rain.

Draco watched her yawn as she exited the bedroom dressed in her newly laundered robes with a distinct lack of darkness under her eyes. He had been catching up on the outrageous speculations as to where he had been for the past week. Answers ranged from a potions convention in Nice to kidnapped by hags. He chuckled as he folded up the paper eyeing the later afternoon sun peeking in from the windows.

“Welcome to the world of the living.” He quipped standing as he did so.

“Hardly seems worth it to me.” She muttered, taking the cup of tea that floated over to her with a nod. “Thanks.”

“Wasn’t me.” He sighed eyeing the teapot distastefully. The chubby piece of china quivered before vanishing out of sight. Hermione proceeded to gracelessly down half the cup in one gulp. “I don’t like this master of the house thing.”

“Well shouldn’t you be used to it by now?” She questioned wandering around the room eyeing the various shelves and knickknacks. “I mean I know this isn’t the main manor but you’ve lived here since you were a child.”

“I didn’t control it then,” He forced himself to calm. There had been more than enough emotion for the week and he didn’t need to look like a pansy after she just relied so heavily on him. I was… sort of nice to be needed. He didn’t really want to jeopardize the careful peace by making her think he couldn’t handle it. “I assumed I only picked it up once Father died. This is my first time being back since then, other than on the grounds.”

“Theo had mentioned…” She trailed off watching him closely.

“Theo needs to keep his mouth shut. It’s over with.” He snapped. Draco stepped forward curtly snatching the thick cloak that appeared on the hook by the door. “If you're done lazing about I have a plan.”

“A plan?” Her eyes shifted to the door minutely, worry flashing across them. “Should anyone see-”

“The Sphinx’s Maze is warded away from everything else. No one will leave that area and if they do I will know it.” He had made sure of it when he first thought to move the cats here. The last thing he needed was some farm hand wandering too close to a cursed statue in the back garden and disappearing. His mouth quirked into an amused smirk. “You didn’t plan to just stay inside here for the next week did you?”

“Well we  _ are _ in hiding.” She scoffed but joined him all the same. A fetching emerald green cloak appeared on the rack as she grabbed for it. She hesitated with a grimace, just long enough for it to shift to a deep maroon before snatching it up. He wasn’t sure where the house had even found such an ugly piece. Maybe it was a curtain at some point.

“You need some sun. You are getting pasty.” He commented admiring the shape of her waist as she swept the cloak around her shoulders.

“You’re one to talk.” She responded. He swung open the door stepping out into the mercifully warm air. May had welcomed them warmly, the weak sun breaking away in the winter rain and snow. Of course the spring rains would start soon but, just for today, it was bright with only the slightest hint of chill in the air. 

“I am porcelain. You are pale.” He finished flatly as he held open the door. The guest house was settled a good distance away from the manor. It was reserved for company that required respect and privacy but who were also unwanted in the family quarters. Draco had a vague memory of his father calling it a mistress cottage when he was young but his mother quickly corrected that idea. Now it was just the guest cottage. With it’s overgrown iris garden out front it looked wholly improper and unmanicured, he loved it. The white porch was outfitted with a hanging swing and some wicker fans for keeping away the worst of the summer heat. The path began in the front garden, passed through the front gate and stretched around a wide blue lake before heading up to the main house. 

He held out his arm mostly out of habit. Something about returning to the ancestral home snapped him back to centuries old formalities. If he wasn’t careful he would start to feel guilty for not having an escort. She took it nonetheless.

They bickered lightly as they meandered down towards the lake. He pulled to a gentle stop underneath a picturesque willow tree that hung impossibly close to the water. Taking in the late hour he called Filly for a dinner picnic, something the elf was only happy to oblige. After a quick dinner of fine food and wine that had certainly not graced most picnic baskets he leaned against the tree to rest. A quiet silence filled the air as they sat, drifting in and out of sleep with only the sounds of nature and the pages of her book in the background. After a while the pages stopped and he frowned.

“It’s pretty here.” She hummed almost lightly to the air. The setting sun warmed them, the promise of summer just barely there.

“Well, if there is one thing wealthy people love universally, it’s beauty.” He responded, barely cracking open an eye. She had discarded her robes and he had nicked them to use as a pillow. Her scent surrounded him, seeming to mix with the fading heat in an intoxicating head rush.

“So....” She chewed on her bottom lip staring out over the lake, just as the sun slipped below the tree line. Her eyes flicked cautiously to him then down to where she wrung her hands. It was a quiet, subdued motion to be expected of a proper young witch. It wasn’t her and he hated it. He had used up more than enough sentimentality today and had little room left for it.

“If you are going to sit there and overthink everything, be my guest.” He responded before she could continue. She turned to face him startled, as if she had forgotten he was a rude git. “However you will keep your monologue inside that massive head of yours or you will ruin my plan.”

“I thought we already did the plan.” She gestured around them skeptically, snapping back to a lively and challenging creature. He grinned in satisfaction.

“You have low expectations of me Granger and I find that offensive.” He huffed eyeing the sky as the last vestige of warmth faded away. “You are insufferably mopey and I didn’t want to spend what is left of my holiday walking around the house avoiding you.”

“Mopey!?!” Hermione’s eyes flared in anger, his words stoking the fire he had grown to appreciate. Suddenly, she stiffened, pausing as she examined him. She blinked cautiously as if he were some strange creature she had never seen before. As if realizing something, her lips flicked up into an absolutely menacing smile and she all but purred. “Draco, is this you trying to cheer me up?”

“No.” He responded, closing his eyes as he waited, mentally counting down the minutes. “That would be sentimental and pathetic.”

“It would be sweet.” She corrected, her voice heavy with warmth as he felt the last trickle of sunlight disappear from his skin. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to handle it or the resulting surge of pleasure the words brought him. He wasn’t quite confident where all of this was heading, if anywhere at all. He knew on some level he had to start being nicer to her, a man was not mean to his... girlfriend seemed too blaise… Friend? Partner? Spouse? Well that was a different sort of head rush he could think about another time.

Draco was saved from dissolving into a fit of panic by her gentle gasp. He pushed himself off the tree trunk and threw his arms over his knees as he watched her. Her eyes lit up in childish wonder as the gentle greenish yellow lights beginning to dot the bushes and grass around them. Her eyes widened to beautiful crystals of amber as they drifted along the shore picking out the land by its glow. Her lips had broken into a bright smile, stealing all spotlight from any of the fauna around them. He barely felt the contented sigh leave his chest. Sentimental and pathetic indeed.

“Glow worms!” Hermione exclaimed in delight. The reaction was satisfying down to his core and he felt his muscles relax as if he had spent the last week in a sauna. “I haven’t seen them since I left my parents house. Isn’t it quiet early for them?” 

Draco chuckled to himself as the moon began to creep up, its reflection on the lake a brilliant white orb. Of course she would know the seasonality of glowworms, probably their mating cycle and diet as well. “You are such a swot.”

“And as such, I am waiting for an explanation.” She finished not even bothering to look at him. Thousands of blinking lights barely reflected in her eyes and something he hadn’t realized had been so isolated uncurled inside of him. He wanted to reach out for her, to be close. And for the first time he saw no reason why he shouldn’t. 

“Of course you are.” He pulled on her sleeve, her arm coming out from underneath her causing her to fall perfectly onto his chest. He was even able to resit the involuntary exhale as her pressure settled on his ribcage in one smooth motion. To him it was a calculated repressive move, to her it certainly looked elegant and effortless. Thus he couldn’t help the smirk on his face as she landed light on him with a quiet ‘oh’. “You are correct, as if that’s shocking. The area is charmed to feel more like July than May at nightfall, certainly you have to have noticed the lack of a spring chill?”

“I had just assumed spending so much time around your icy heart had made me immune to it.” She hummed even as she settled against him hesitantly lifting her knee to press her thigh over his. He forced down any wayward thoughts, drawing his attention back to the opening show.

“Hmm, clever. You are by far the rudest witch I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.” He quipped chuckling at the huff from his chest. He ran his hand over the crown of her head and down the length of her hair. He regrettably thought back to his time as a child teasing her for the wild tresses. How hopeless he would have been to have never touched them at all. Maybe she was right, maybe he had focused so deeply on them as a weapon because he actually had wanted them but didn’t know how to say it. The predictability of it disgusted him.

Almost instantly she pulled away drawing her hair to one side and starting the familiar but complicated motions of a braid while murmuring apologies. 

“Don’t.” He rested his hand lightly on her forearm as it struggled with a stray ringlet. “Leave it down.”

“I thought you hated these.” She remarked with an eyebrow raise, the challenge clear in her eyes. “You’ve called them a nest, a tinderbox, woodland brush-”

“And they are all those things. And wild, and messy and uncontrollable. Just like you; don’t go changing things now that I have finally have you how I like.” She eyed his skeptically but let her work unravel. The wave of curls settled back against him, tickling his nose with their textured softness. He smiled at the small victory. “Leave it down Granger, it’s time for the main act.”

“They tried to eat your hand this morning.” She huffed as she regained her side lying position, her hand trailing up to his chest and her leg raising over his to intertwine at the ankle.

“I should have known better than to run my hand through them. You don’t try to pet a lion after all.” He exhaled lightly as she smacked his chest, more for dramatic effect than need. She smiled softly staring back out over the lake just in time.

It happened slowly, at the kind of speed you don’t notice at all and then all at once. Suddenly the glowing lights had taken to the air and drifted over the water, reflecting back in the crystalline surface. They faded into where the trees broke the sky and flirted with the stars until it was impossible to tell what was earthbound and what was not. The moon, lights, and stars were the only incandescence for miles in a sea of ink.

“Glow worms don’t fly.” She breathed watching the scene in perfect rapture. That same gentle smile plastered across her face, caused directly by him.

“No, they don’t.” He thought about resisting the urge to do it but threw caution to the wind as he bent down to kiss the top of her head, breathing in the waves of cinnamon. He exhaled a light sigh forcing his eyes upward to watch the spectacle. “These are called fireflies. One of my ancestors imported them a few decades back and charmed this perfect habitat for them. We’re having a bit of a population problem as you can see.”

She chuckled and the sound warmed him. He pulled her tightly, against him looping his arm around her waist. While he didn’t necessarily have any right to do so, there was also no one telling him not to.

“It’s stunning Draco. Really.” She tilted to look up at him, her eyes reflecting the lights and stars and moon until he was so lost in them he wasn’t really sure where she began and ended. He tried to think of anything witty or clever to say. He would even settle for snippy but nothing dramatic came to mind. Instead he traced her jawline, his eyes trailing his motions with careful consideration. There was likely no going back at this point, and yet a small voice still cautioned him away. It sounded strangely like his father, a fact that made it impossibly easy to ignore. He lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers, cautious enough to not insist anything but definite enough to let her know where he stood on the matter.

He shuddered as her fingers gripped at his shirt, balling it up in her small hand. Had she always been so small, she must have been and he had just never noticed. He should have expected it but he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a tiny pink tongue trailed across his lips in one smooth swipe, begging permission. His hand slipped behind her neck pulling her against him and trapping himself in her curls anyway as his own tongue met to meet hers in a tangle of quiet passion. When she pulled away, he scowled at the loss, inciting a small giggle from her throat. He had totally forgotten the spectacle around him as she kissed her way down his jaw, pausing at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Her teeth bit into his skin in an unexpected shock of pain addled pleasure causing him to hiss before settling into a groan as she licked her way down his collar bone.

A mournful cry filled the air with heart breaking clarity and he pulled away swiftly, not bothering to hide his irritation. The fireflies had all retreated, only the last few stragglers floating back to the shore.

“Draco?” He looked down at the witch in front of him, his annoyance at being interrupted only grew as he took in her swollen lips and the high color dancing across her cheeks. His ire was momentarily silenced as he processed her deep breaths and dazed smile. Her eyes were glazed and half lidded, turning his thoughts towards the dangerous waters of what could be… in time of course. He had wholly forgotten the interruption and was about to descend upon her again when she continued. “What’s wrong?”

With an annoyed groan he threw himself back against the tree,allowing the rough bark to wear into his back and help him focus. He slowly untangled his hands and set about removing himself from the woman next to him. It was only due to the fearful flash in her eyes he remembered to answer her. “That was the manor’s augurey.”

“Augurey?” Her eyes sparked as she drifted through her memories, flickering to find the relevant one. She scowled as she appeared to latch on to whatever she needed. “You don’t actually believe that nonsense do you?”

“I do. It’s not an opinion, it is a well known fact.” He chided. He considered tossing her the robes he had been using for a pillow but decided against them packing those away as well.

“An animal cannot foretell death, Draco.” She finished in an exasperated tone as she was fairly gracelessly rolled off the blanket when it packed itself into the basket. Before he could respond the moon disappeared from the lake, a thick bank of clouds rolling quickly over it. A crack of thunder boomed ominously nearby just as the first pellets fell.

“Not that one. The ra-'' He was spared any future explanation as the torrent of spring crashed down on them. Even under the relatively sheltered area of the tree Draco felt his hair plaster to his skull in seconds. Hermione scrambled to get up and pulled them along towards the house, apparently forgetting that he could apparate them. It was pointless to run but he did anyway, reveling in the peals of laughter from the girl in front of him as they stumbled down the path in a distinctly undignified and very non-Malfoy-like manner. Safely under the coverage of the porch he blew into the house, catching his breath while Hermione wheezed next to him, collapsed on her knees.

“You sure can plan a memorable date, Malfoy.” She giggled, dripping rainwater on a carpet from the Ming Dynasty. He rolled his eyes at her, smiling as he did so. Even soaking wet her eyes burned with life, her laughter infectious. He couldn’t help the small chuckle to escape him as well.

“Well,” He cleared his throat pulling up to his full height in imitation of proper posture. “I live to impress. Elegance comes naturally to me.”

“I’m sure it does.” She smiled lightly unfolding from the floor. Suddenly he became aware of how very closely her clothes had melted into her skin, clearly sculpting to every inch of her body. He swallowed helplessly as his eyes latched onto a rain drop trailing its way down her chest. 

He caught her eye and was immediately ashamed. The implication of what he was doing hung heavily in the air. Suddenly he wished he had spent more time around women properly. He wasn’t quite sure what to do that wouldn’t result in her smacking him. She stared at him a moment longer before nodding definitely and spinning on her heel. His body all but cried out in protest as she walked away, flushing in disappointment. 

She made it to the kitchen before glancing at him over her shoulder, an evil smile twisting across her face. It inspired a far more dangerous emotion than fear. With absolutely no style or grace she peeled off her shirt and let it fall with a wet slap to the floor. Her damp hair fell loosely on her back, swaying slightly from the motion. A flash of something distinctly red and temptingly lacy disappeared beneath the curls. His pulse skyrocketed and he couldn’t do anything but stare as she met his eyes over her shoulders, the invitation seemingly clear.

“Well? Are you coming or not?” She disappeared into the dark of the hallway leaving him shocked into a stillness so perfect that someone could encase him in paper mache with no issue. Clearly he was misunderstanding things. The Hermione Granger he grew up with was brazen and loud mouthed but utterly proper. Obsessed with rules and morals. There was no way she would-

Another quiet flop was enough to get him moving forward, his hands already tearing at the buttons of his shirt. After all he wasn’t the same at twenty-four as he was at fourteen. Why would she be either. 


	47. A Fumbling Reply

Draco had learned to take great joy in his new master of the house abilities, much to Hermione's chagrin. He always managed to beat her awake and as soon as her eyes opened he would summon them a large feast, served in bed. After finally rousing for the day he would walk her around the grounds showing her snippets of his childhood. There was the lawn where his miniature quidditch set used to be. Over here is the stable where he had his first kiss with Pansy Parkinson at eight. He hadn't seen what all the fuss was about. (She made sure to remind him.) All in all it was a great holiday, but as it was winding down her thoughts geared up, the ghost of near misses chilled her to the bone. He had a life here, one he was expected to return to. Just as she would return to the shadows, hiding from the past and present alike. He had already nearly died once, twice if you count that first trip that started it all. Whatever they were, she could never walk beside him, not like he wanted. Every attempt to address… whatever they were was pushed to the side quickly, neither of them really wanting to ruin anything before they had to.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked from the grass next to her. She had found that lazing about in the sun was one of his favorite hobbies despite his pale skin. She wondered if there was some sort of permanent sun lotion charm or if it was something genetic. Perhaps-

"Granger?" He questioned again pushing up onto his elbows. His eyes glinted with curiosity and just the barest sense of concern. "I can see you rambling in there. Spit it out before you break something."

"Shouldn't you be nicer to me?" She questioned teasingly. It wasn't that she was avoiding the topic, per say. It was more so that she didn't want to break the fragile mirage they were living in.

"I have never been nice." He scoffed. "You've known that for years."

"Hmmm, Maybe I'll exchange you then." She mused tapping a finger to her lip. "I bet there's a newer model that comes with a doting upgrade."

"Ah, but you have the limited edition, Master of an ancient and very large house package." He pushed up to give her a soft almost teasing kiss that in all left her breathless and even more melancholy than she was. He fell back onto the grass looking smug. "Plus, I can do that. Now what has got you all worked up?"

"You aren't going to like it." His closed eyes scrunched at that, his face pulling into a weak scowl.

"There are a lot of things I don't like. Not telling me just ensures I _really_ won't like it later."

He had a point. "It's about Harry."

"Ah, my least favorite topic. I agree, let's not talk about it."

"Fickle boy." She swiped the hair into his face playfully, watching the elegant way he pushed it back, his fingers trailing through it as if trailing through water. "I think I need to leave London."

He froze halfway through the movement, his hand still tangled at the back of his head. The muscles in his face twitched but his eyes remained closed.

"I think I should go somewhere else for a little while. It's not like I technically need to be here for work or anything. It would just put some distance between Harry and I. You know, let things calm down." She hated how unsure she sounded, like she was asking for permission. She wasn't sure what reaction to expect, she swore his moods were as mercurial as his eyes sometimes. She did know that he would not let her get away with leaving a note and disappearing into the night.

"How long?"

"I have no idea. I haven't really planned it all out yet." She murmured, pulling up her knees and wrapping her arms around them. She watched in silence as a nearby male peacock unfolded his tail, trying to catch the attention of one of the hens. He was rejected as she turned and strutted away.

Malfoy finally opened his eyes, but they revealed absolutely nothing. She wasn't necessarily expecting tears. But possibly some anger, shouting, or at the very least resignation. He stared at her for a long measure, sorting something out in his head. With a deep sigh he shook his head.

"Fine." Hermione's heart ached, not that she wasn't expecting it. After all, she had never really clarified what this week had been and he had not volunteered it. Still, she had expected… something more. Even if… whatever this was… meant nothing she would like to think he would at least miss her as a friend. He lolled his head to this side, watching her face. "Where are we going?"

"What?" She questioned dumbly as he turned to focus on the fluffy clouds packing tightly together overhead. It was likely to rain again soon. Not that that was atypical of spring.

"Well I will need time to set up the floo. International connections can be difficult if you want it to be untraceable but I do have a contact for that. Blaise is already taking care of the company right now so the transition should be pretty painless. I will have to pop back to London at least once a week for meetings, possibly twice during new releases and holidays…"

"Oh… I- uh… Oh."

"What?" He questioned, a hard edge to his voice. A muscle in his jaw clenched as he stared at the sky. "You didn't actually think you were leaving without me did you?"

"Well…" Him coming along had never really been part of the plan. He had a life, an image. He still had so much to stay for, especially with Blaise fixed up. They could take London by storm with no dark cloud floating around them. He probably wanted a life, a family; someone who could go to a horridly boring gala with him without running away screaming...

"Honestly." He sighed deeply, schooling himself as he glared at her. He kept his tone bland and level. "While I appreciate having more than a spare scrap of parchment as notice before you run off into some half cocked scheme, you don't get to run from me. I am not half as incompetent as those idiots you dodged last time and no matter where you run I will find you anyway. Then I will yell and you will cry and we will both feel terrible so let's just skip the whole damn thing, and have some lunch."

Utilizing whatever magical control he had even on the lawn a picnic basket appeared beside them, a variety of tea sandwiches filling it to the brim. He took out a cucumber one and sliced off the crust with his wand, handing it to her gently.

"Draco-"

"Don't argue with me Hermione." He responded by pulling out his own selection. "I always get what I want and doing so will just result in no more crust-less sandwiches for you."

She laughed lightly taking a bite of her meal and trying to force down the warm feeling blooming in her chest. She needed to leave, she knew that. At least if she wanted to avoid being noticed. She watched the man across from her, staring out at the gardens, his jaw clenched with the nearly hidden hint of worry under the sheen of confidence. Whether she liked it or not they were attached, in a different way than everyone else she had left, the very idea made her heart hurt. If she left, it may destroy him... Honestly it may destroy her as well. Could she do it? Could she take him with her and start a new life with him? It seemed preposterous and yet...

"Promise me." He demanded, his shoulders set ridgedly. When he turned to face her his eyes were clear and unguarded and all but sparking, an unholy mixture of worry, fear and pain. " Promise me you won't leave me behind. I won't force myself upon you like Potter has but you have to promise not to just disappear again. You have to tell me."

Hermione thought about it. She really did. It would be for the best if she just vanished. Despite what he thought she was pretty sure he had no chance to find her; she was an expert at this point. And yet, when she imagined her life elsewhere somehow he was always in it. His scathing remarks teasing her for a mistake, his gentle but sure touch preparing some ingredient, especially his watchful gaze, looking at her as if she was the most important thing in the world. She wasn't sure when they had become important to each other, maybe it was this week, maybe it started when he wandered into her shop in Delhi, the subtle emotions working behind the scenes. Regardless, she found she was not ready to give that up, maybe she would never be.

"I promise." She put her whole heart into the words, hoping that every ounce of sincerity leaked into them. A world without Draco Malfoy was not one she wanted to live in, as strange as that sounded.

He stared at her for a long moment, peacocks crying in the background as the wind began to pick up. The absurdity of her current presence on one of the riches most 'pure' estates in the UK was not lost on her. Any yet, his clear acceptance of her was more than enough to make her feel perfectly at home.

"Good." His voice was steady and casual but Hermione could hear the slight waver in pitch, a sign of unabashed relief, or at the least closest he ever got to it. They would have to work on that. She wrapped herself around him, pressing lazy kisses against his neck in the last of the sunlight. At this moment things were perfect and she would take that for what it was worth.

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"I'll be back once I get some tail feathers. I promise to be gentle!"

As soon as she had closed the door behind her he chuckled to himself. If she thought those birds would be gentle back she had another thing coming. It would no doubt keep her busy for a minimum of an hour. He listened to her footsteps fade as she wandered towards the manor proper. When he could no longer hear her he stretched out his magic, feeling for her. Deciding she was far enough away he rose and sauntered over to the floo, in a flare of powder he was back home for only a moment before porting to his office.

He was greeted by a minor explosion of paper and a fair amount of swearing. Blaise grumbled behind the desk floating the stack of papers back into a semi organized pile. Theo was flat on the floor sipping on the freshly saved hot chocolate that his assistant had dropped.

"Drizzella. You haven't seen me." He commented lightly, a chair floating forward from the side wall. The receptionist nodded as he sat at the rather unfamiliar position in front of his desk, Blaise eyeing him oddly.

"Mr. Malfoy is still on vacation. Would you like to leave a message?" She responded automatically. "I believe I will send Marie to lunch early." The witch inclined her head and spun on her heel before walking out and shutting the door behind her.

"Has it been two weeks already?" Theo questioned pulling himself up on unsteady legs.

"You know it hasn't." Blaise responded suspiciously, vanishing the papers. "You still have a few days. What do you want?"

"Can't a man just visit his dearest friends?" Draco questioned, waving away his bar set that came floating toward him like a lonely puppy. That had awkward implications.

"Sure he can." Blaise responded with his eyebrow raised. "I mean _you_ never have, but go ahead. Let's see it."

Draco sat in silence for a moment, Theo's tea cup tinkling against the plate repetitively as he joined them. "Okay, I have a problem."

"Of course you do." Theo responded tiredly.

"Go on then." Blaise drawled as he pulled down another missive, running his eyes across it.

"She wants to leave."

"Who?"

"Granger." He focused on keeping most of the emotion out of her voice. "Potter has spooked her and she now has grand visions of sneaking off to Prague and smoking cigarettes with some slimy Czech."

"Good for her. Tell her I'll send a housewarming gift." Blaise responded, waving his hand dismissively.

"We should get her one of those muggle mixers. I hear every kitchen needs one." Theo replied, though his humor did not erase the dullness of his eyes. He sipped weakly at his cup, spilling the occasional drop onto the matching plate.

"That can't happen." Both males looked up at him, the steel in his voice clearly conveyed despite his best efforts.

"Why do you care?" Blaise responded carefully, watching his every move. He didn't answer, not sure how exactly to formulate a response or even if he knew why. The clattering from Theo's cup had risen to a near racket and he couldn't focus.

"Fucking Christ, Theo. You are going break my tea set." Theo flinched and vanished the cup.

"Sorry. I am a bit handicapped at the moment." He responded softly, tucking his shaking hands into his lap. "I have a meeting at the ministry later."

"Don't avoid the question." Blaise growled, his patience shorter than usual. Draco took in his overworked friends with a stab of guilt. He would have to hire some extra help. He was more than aware he had pushed off a good amount of responsibility on them lately and he was no longer expecting it to be a temporary sort of thing.

"Draco?" Theo questioned, a hint of characteristic understanding leaking into his voice.

"What?"

"You love her don't you." The words hung in the office air, twisting around with the dust motes.

"Of course I do." He sighed softly, not finding the energy to fight against it anymore. It had snuck up on him while he was distracted and latched on like a leech, sucking more and more of him away every time he stepped into that shabby, knockdown workshop she called home. By the time he realized what was going on he was already too far gone. He could see it in her smile and hear it in the way she laughed. He could feel it when she pulled on his arm desperately trying to convince him to go to some twice damn hostile environment to fetch a useless herb for an equally worthless potion and every time he said yes. Every moment spent with her felt like it was stolen directly from whatever God cursed him to exist on this planet. It should be painful, he should feel abused, he should hate her. But all he could think about was that no matter the outcome, it had all been worth it.

Blaise didn't respond, he just sighed. Theo meanwhile had a small but private smile slip on his face as he stared out the window. The whole situation was so out of place in their usual relationship it almost felt like he was talking to two different people.

"How long?" Theo questioned.

"Just now? Since Christmas? Forever? The hell if I know." He answered honestly. Theo simply nodded staring at his hands that still fidgeted in his lap. Maybe he would just sell the whole damn company and pull out of London all together. He couldn't keep asking his friends to run at this level forever and what was even the point? He had more than enough to support whatever future Hermione wanted, even if she wanted to buy her way to being the Queen of Sheba.

"Is there any chance I can talk you out of it?" Blaise finally asked, breaking the silence as he rubbed his forehead.

"I would not suggest trying." Draco responded coldly, meeting his friend's gaze. After a moment the other wizard nodded as if confirming something before leaning back in his chair.

"Have you told her yet?" He questioned, his eyes half lidded as he watched Draco from across the desk.

"Not in so many words."

"Then how is she supposed to know?" Theo prompted.

"Shouldn't she just… know?" After all he had never... That is to say... Well he wasn't like _that_ around anyone but her. It brought out the worst in him, making him an emotionally driven mess of possession, awkward words and softness. He became a bumbling idiot around her, frequently losing control of his actions while at the same time feeling blessed she even deigned to share the same air with him. Other times he was tempted to throttle her for doing something dangerous or not taking proper care of herself when on a research lead. But the most important to him were the little quiet daily moments, just brewing next to her while she read some dead wizard's diary. If that wasn't love then what was?

"You're asking the wrong people, mate." Blaise commented to the desk. "We are not exactly the pinnacle of healthy relationships here."

"If you won't tell her then show her." Theo added, rubbing the back of his hand.

"How do you suggest I go about that?"

"Presents?" Blaise suggested. "All women like stuff."

"She's not like that. I can't just buy her."

"You aren't trying to buy her, you grand idiot." Theo shot testily. Draco felt a flare of anger only for it to be overwrought by guilt as his friend dropped his head into his hands, clearly trying to nurse a headache into something manageable. Patience. It was something else he had learned from her. "You are trying to show her you care. Of course it would just be easier to _tell_ her."

"He's right." Blaise added. "Get her something only she would like. Something she would never get herself no matter how desperately she wanted it."

Draco thought about it for a moment. The obvious answer was a rare ingredient of some kind, or perhaps a special cauldron.

"And _not_ something work based." Blaise growled, knocking out most of his options. "Merlin, you are predictable."

Draco leaned back, folding his hands in front of him as he thought. A new kitten would probably be unappreciated by Crookshanks so that was out. She had no interest in clothes or trinkets. Jewelry was always a safe bet but she never really wore-

He caught sight of the watch on his wrist as the face glinted in the sun. The small scratch near the six o'clock mark a distinct marker. He wondered.

"Blaise, I need you to look into something."

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Hermione woke ridiculously tender and thoroughly entangled with long pale limbs that, even in sleep, clung desperately to her. She sighed lightly, relishing the way all her muscles ached with the soreness of being overworked and the way his skin brushed against hers. After a quick moment of fighting for the right to stand up she freed herself from the protective arm locked around her rib cage. As usual her clothes were gone so she threw on her newly laundered robe before wandering into the kitchen. She had every intention of making a thank you breakfast. Yesterday Draco had provided her with a library catalog of all the books in the mansion, withdrawing any that she requested with a wave of his hand. There were first editions of books she never thought to even see _copies_ of. Some were original potions manuals containing hand written personal notes from their author for Merlin's sake! Greedily she set about duplicating as many as she could until he coerced her to bed that night with absolutely evil promises that he did most definitely deliver on. It was something she could get very used to.

The sounds of cooking echoed in the house, something that may have frightened her if burglars broke into your home to make cupcakes. Draco's house elf was directing the beginning of breakfast while humming softly. If whatever she was making could qualify as breakfast. Hermione saw no less than twelve bowls and three bottles of alcohol wheezing around. She had stumbled upon the source of their usual in-bed feast. She cleared her throat, startling the poor elf.

"Lady!" The elf breathed, scandalized. "You should not be out of bed, no you should not."

Before Hermione could so much as respond the elf summoned a plush looking rocking chair into the kitchen. She quickly ushered Hermione into it while covering her in a mound of blankets.

"My name is Hermione. You can call me that." Hermione murmured ruefully through her small air hole. The house elf squealed in pain or delight, Hermione was unsure.

"Lady Hermione. A very nice name indeed." Apparently satisfied to see Hermione thoroughly suffocated, the house elf stepped back to the kitchen working on breakfast. "The Lady should not be out of bed, Daisy told Filly so. The Lady and Master should be resting and saving their energy for house matters."

"I am pleasantly rested." Hermione sighed working her way through the blankets so that they fell in her lap. "You don't need to make us breakfast Filly. I was going to make something for Draco."

"Nonsense." Filly drifted over a tea cup which Hermione took gratefully. She grimaced slightly at the scent of green tea, really preferring black or Earl Grey or black in the morning for the caffeine. She eyed the pot of coffee on the stove enviously. "Filly lives to serve the family."

"I'm not family and you should only serve if you want to. Not because you have to." Hermione countered sipping the drink nonetheless. In spite of the low energy level the tea was excellently made and she could taste just the lightest breath of spring in warm floral notes.

"I am most pleased to serve the family, Lady Hermione." The elf dismissed bidding over a rather bland looking breakfast of plain yogurt, bran toast and some scrambled eggs. She grimaced lightly, she hadn't eaten scrambled eggs since she was seven. She examined the stack of smoked salmon and fried eggs in the corner clearly planned for Draco's plate. Surely he didn't need that much.

"I'm not a Lady. Just Hermione." She tried picking at the pale breakfast. Perhaps it was left over from the blood purity views of the last generation bleeding into the new one. She would have to ask Draco to politely have a discussion with the elf. It wasn't that she was horrid, she seemed quite nice. Hermione just didn't want to subsist on peasant food if the creature insisted on cooking for them again.

"Hermione is not _a_ lady _."_ The elf agreed as if insulted by the very idea. "Hermione is _The_ Lady. The Lady brought The Master back to the home. It is a good thing."

She quickly flipped something in a pan, the sweet scent of sugar and chocolate wafting over. Hermione tried to focus past her salivating and planning how to swipe Draco's breakfast before it got to him. Bunching up her courage she decided on the straight forward tactic, pointing at the salmon with clear desire. "Filly. Could I have some of that?"

"Of co-" Filly looked up, snapping to attention immediately. Hermione had already started reaching for the salmon when the elf let out a sharp bark. "Absolutely not!"

"What?" Hermione's spirits fell as the plate completely disappeared from the counter, the elf physically blocking her from any of the _good_ food with wide frightened eyes. "Why not?!"

"Daisy said no fish. Daisy said that breakfast will help. It is made of calming foods it is!" Filly eyed her carefully, cutting off the remaining cooking with a snap of her fingers.

"Why doesn't Daisy want me to have fish?" Hermione questioned only vaguely aware of the sounds of footsteps in the hallway.

"It's not good for the Young Master, he is most important. You shall wait. Daisy said." Hermione eyed her suspiciously bland breakfast with trepidation.

"There is more than enough food for both of us." She shot back. "Draco won't mind."

"It is not safe for the Young Master. The Lady must wait until after he comes. Then Lady Hermione can have all the fish and drink she desires. Daisy said so." Hermione's eyes widened in horror as she caught the implication. Filly continuing with her cooking as if nothing out of the ordinary occurred. Suddenly the elf flinched as a distinct chill bled into the air.

"Filly." Hermione felt the magic in the room rush to greet him in a swirl of anger. The air all but crackled, tickling across her skin. "That won't be necessary."

"But Daisy said-" Clearly unaccustomed to the usual house elf relationship Filly spoke out of turn. She was cut off quickly.

"Leave." He growled, enticing Hermione to look at the doorway where he loomed. It was clear why the Malfoy family had survived at the top of Britain's hierarchy for so long, they were beautifully powerful even in their ruthlessness. His eyes flared dangerously and every movement felt elegant and slow while promising action. She was somewhat terrified by the idea she had no idea what he was capable of.

"Filly is sorry sir." Filly immediately fell on the floor, her long ears dropped and quivering. " Filly is still learning-"

"Draco. Don't-" Hermione interrupted, reaching out as if to stay his hand. His eyes flashed in fear and disappointment for only a moment before settling into a guarded state. Hermione continued, pulling her arm into her lap. "She just misunderstood is all."

He regarded her slowly, his clenched fist forcibly glued to his side as he examined her closely. She forced herself to breath as if completely unbothered by the whole situation. The thousand thoughts running through her head slowed to a crawl. Finally he scowled, stalking over to the plates filled with suddenly forbidden breakfast items.

"Filly go." The small elf yipped before disappearing in a near silent crack. The magic still roiled around him, drifting past her like an electric breeze. It was almost suffocating to be here when it was like this.

"Draco-." She started.

"You didn't actually think I was going to hurt her did you?" He ground out piling assorted foodstuffs onto his plate. A cup of coffee floated over to the pot, filling quickly with deep brown liquid. "I am not a monster."

"No I didn't think that at all." Hermione lied immediately. While many thoughts crossed her mind at that point, the foremost was the fact that she should stop making judgments based off of half heard information that was years old. "But she didn't deserve to be fired for trying to do her job. It's not like she had proper training."

He winced, both his hands spread out gripping the counter. The bath robe did little to hide his muscles as they roiled with tension. He sighed deeply, letting his head roll back and body relax. "This thing is… Harder than I imagined."

"They say it gets easier." She mused watching the way hair drifted against his neck. "As time goes on."

"Do you believe that?" He questioned, glancing over his shoulder. She just shrugged. He swept over to the table, food in hand and cup of coffee trailing behind him. It was only as he pulled out his chair he caught sight of Hermione's breakfast. He froze, starting as her sorry amalgamation of food groups.

"You don't actually want to eat that do you?" He questioned scowling at the plate. Hermione considered keeping silent if only to push away the discussion however the growling of her stomach made it fairly impossible to lie.

"I could go for some Earl Gray too." She mumbled as he placed his plate in front of her before wandering back over to the counter, lightly cursing. She eyed the raw egg yolk and smoked fish in front of her, a sharp stab of fear shooting through her, suddenly killing her appetite.

"Draco?" She questioned shakily poking at the yolk with her fork, the liquid golden trails bleeding into the white, perfect for mixing with the fish. In spite of the hollow feeling in her stomach she wanted nothing to do with the meal.

"I'm sorry about that. Daisy had an intuitive way of going about things…" He trailed off as he sent her tea over with a flick of his wrist. "Without anyone here she must have been imparting whatever should could on Filly, just without practical context."

"Right." She was silent as he joined her, the steaming tea slowly cooling in front of her. There was no way, it was impossible that she could know. But then again magic is frequently impossible. And couldn't animals tell when a storm was coming and take shelter? She was pretty sure Muggles had started to train dogs to sense medical issues like seizures and heart conditions. Would it really be that far out of an idea that a sentient magical creature could do the same? The thought sent a new wave of panic careening over her. "Draco?"

"Yes?" He questioned with a flinch, still clearly avoiding the tension as he stared down at his eggs. It was strange seeing him unsure. After months of overconfident swaggering she couldn't help but find it somewhat endearing even under the circumstances. He looked like a favored child who had just been caught stealing a sweet before dinner- something she bet he had done plenty of times as a kid. Did his mother scold him, or simply pat the top of his head and laugh? What would she do in Narcissa's place? The same or- Her vision blurred at the edges and she took a deep breath to center herself. Seeing not much else to do she just asked.

"Would she… would she know?"

"Know?" Draco looked up at her in thinly veiled confusion. She flicked her eyes towards the discarded breakfast then down at her stomach meaningfully. Suddenly his eyes shot wide, his cutlery forgotten as he held up his hands in defense. "Oh Merlin no! No she doesn't… You're not… I mean it's not to say… I… fucking- shite. This is not how I ever expected to address this conversation."

"Oh, thank God." She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding at his reaction, her muscles going slack and her stomach awakening with a new fevor in it's relief. She even found the room to chuckle at his groan as he buried his face in his hands.

"It was just a guess. Or I suppose an instruction since we've been..." He pulled his hands away and glanced up at her eating before his face flushed red again and he looked away. For once he actually looked like a bumbling teenager, it was refreshing. "This is mortifying."

The relief was intoxicating to Hermione who was wholly unprepared for that life. Or any life that didn't involve the next week's inventory list… at least right now. It also helped that breakfast, when she was not being served food known to bore the stomach, was amazing. "In hindsight I am sure it will be quite funny."

"I'm glad someone sees the humor in it." He grumbled just starting on his breakfast. He picked at the eggs silently for a few minutes until ever clink of his fork against the China drove her closer to madness.

"Spit it out, Malfoy." She sighed, sipping on her tea.

"Would...." He paused to flick his eyes upward, head still bent over the table. "Ehm... Would that really be so awful?"

"Would what- Oh..." The question hung in the air, her breakfast lying half eaten and forgotten. The icy fear returned to her sending her heart skittering down to her stomach. Hermione's mind was a flurry of activity. She was unable to parse a single thought from the mess as ideas flickered by.They had both cast contraceptive charms every time, on the off chance one would fail, the second certainly wouldn't. But the idea of a family was never one she had allowed herself before, let alone with Draco Malfoy of all people.

"I am an idiot. I shouldn't have said anything." He growled crossing his arms and folding into himself. He cursed under his breath, she thought she heard something about Theo in the jumble of words but it was gone. Finally he drew a hand through his hair and sighed. "It's just. This is so new and... I don't know.... Basically what I am trying to say is that this is important to me. I guess I just wanted you to know that."

"It's important to me too." She responded with a warm smile. He glanced up, a small crooked smile flashed on his face. It looked so hopeful, something that sent fear coursing through her. Suddenly exhausted by the morning activities she felt the distinct need for some alone time, a rarity in her usual life. Although she supposed this was 'her usual life' now.

"I'm going for a wander." She stated transfiguring her bathrobe into a proper treaking robe and one of the blankets wrapped around her into a knee length tea dress. Draco stood, his hand outstretched as if he wanted to say something.

"Right." He nodded pulling his arm close to his chest, she was grateful for the space. "I'll talk to her while you're out." She must have pulled a face since he rolled his eyes at her before sitting to resume his breakfast. "Don't worry. I won't fire her. Although what an abandoned mansion needs with a house elf is beyond me… I will call Pinky over to give her some proper training."

She smiled awkwardly, torn between wanting to stay and needing to get out. Her feet finally found the motivation to move just her brain vocalized the thought that she was running away. She was out of the front garden before she could change her mind. She threw up her hood in case someone did see her, in spite of Draco's reassurances otherwise. It wouldn't do much but it would give her time to cast a few glamour charms.

The Malfoy Manor grounds were unfairly beautiful for not having anyone care for them in years. The situation had led her to believe there was only one house elf and as such the gardens and hedges grew wild. Roses, morning glories and lilies flowered under centuries old spells to ensure their seasonality. Thick untrimmed hedges grew upwards instead of out making them all the more breathtaking in their height. Even the perfectly manicured path was free of weeds as side growing flowers ran over the stone walls and spilled just ever so slightly into the walkway. She avoided the entrance to the hedge maze, wandering around the edges until she reached the manor.

When it appeared from what she could have sworn was the back wall of the maze she stumbled over her own feet. The walls looked every bit as imposing as they had been on her first trip here, although the sunny spring day did put a damper on the forbiddingness. As a matter of fact the pale gray stones just felt like stones, the windows like windows, and the decorative spires like spires. It was every bit as normal as any other castle floating around the UK. Her steps took her forward, landing on a thick marble patio. The dais spread in a wide half circle, large enough to host a party for fifty with no one having to step off of it or feel crowded. She rolled her eyes at the idea.

A bit of motion in an upstairs window caught her attention, a curtain wavering slightly before falling still. She threw up her best mental walls, trapping the anxiety inside and any attacks outside. She wandered closer to the french doors leading to the house. Theo had mentioned wards and heavy compulsion charms on them to keep people away but to Hermione they just hummed lightly with Draco's now familiar magic. She reached a hand out tentatively just as another movement deeper within caught her eye. A shadow surely, after all, wasn't Draco's mother in Italy or some such place? Who else would be in the manor? It was probably just Filly dusting.

Just as she turned around and had moved to step away she heard the gentle click of a door unlatch. Carefully, as if not to be noticed by whatever had already seen her she peeked over her shoulder. The french doors had swung open wide, inviting her in. Wall mounted candelabras flickered to life lighting the dark hallway with an almost merry glow. She should head back and tell Draco, this seemed highly unusual. Then again, what if this was his way of letting her in? His way of letting her address her ghost without an audience. An odd comfort considering she had really never felt the need to seek out the room she had been tortured in prior to this moment. Suddenly feeling much more confident in her curiosity she took a tentative step into the doorway. She was honestly expecting immolation or some other equally horrid fate for being a muggleborn who dared to slip into the hallowed halls of 'Wizarding Britain's finest'. She was met only with silence as her shoe stepped lightly on the carpet. Rich Purple walls rose around her into arched ceilings giving the whole place a feel of antiquity and mystery. She had the minor thought that she should be more afraid, considering her history, but waves of calm washed over her pushing it away. She was brave, she could face this.

With careful steps she floated down the hall gazing through open doors briefly before moving on. Some of the rooms were ransacked as if some huge battle had been fought in it. Others were all but untouched, a small sitting parlor looked ready for service. She briefly wondered how she had managed to wander so far into the house without realizing it when a previously shut door creaked open ahead of her. Taking it as much of an invitation as any she nudged the rest of the door open with her shoulder and peered inside.

The room was midnight black, complete in it's darkness. However, just as she set foot into the room a small flicker of silvery blue light wisped into existence. Hermione was taken by the light, so soft and lonely looking. With even, slow steps she wandered forth her hand outstretched.

Just as her fingertips brushed the blue the world swirled and she landed with a hard thunk in an unfamiliar dining room. A huge arched window was closed off by curtain letting just enough light to see clearly in. The walls had been repainted to white recently, she could smell the fresh scent. No, this was not _the_ room, but something else entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> The Blaise and Draco had not really started as friends. They were certainly cordial in their school days and one could even say they were friendly. But their current closeness started out of necessity. Blaise because he had nowhere else to go. Theo because they all but dragged him out of his misery. One that that he is still fighting. It is safe to say that there is no one else on the planet Draco trust as much as these two, even if he would never admit it.
> 
> Daisy was Draco's old house elf. When all the others were removed she had elected to stay and take care of the abandoned estate. She was old enough that Draco let her, assuming she would want to die in her home rather than a strangers. Unbeknownst to him, she brought in Filly when she knew the end was close, hoping to pass on whatever ancestral knowledge she could to the next generation. In this process, some wires may have been crossed.


	48. A Song Without a Key

She had no idea why she was here. What on earth had compelled her to break into a sealed home known to have dark magic in its very bones. Particularly, a lot of dark magic against people like her. She shuddered, pulling her hand back from where it was still outstretched. The room faded away again. Now that her eyes had adjusted she was able to make out the exact same room she was standing in, if not a bit less dilapidated. Experimentally she touched the silvery mist again, floating back into the better lit iteration. She flinched as a table appeared with three familiar faces at it.

Draco looked young. So much younger than he ever was, even when they were in school. He was thin and wispy, deep purple smudges decorated his eyes as if he had gotten into a losing fight. His mouth was pressed into a hard line, all cruel edges and frigid coldness. She shivered thinking about the sweet words those lips had held just hours ago. He was joined by this mother, a slight pale thing Hermione had little to no knowledge about, other than the fact that she clearly loved her son enough to risk her own life for Harry's. She was the cold collected poise that Hermione would occasionally see in Draco from time to time.

Lucius cleared his throat, his fine pale hair hung limply against his head. His eyes sallow and very similar to his son's, a rather macabre matching set. His hand reached blankly at his waist only to pull away with nothing. Hermione had recalled something about him having his magic revoked, not that he didn't deserve it.

"The Greengrass's have sent us an owl." He remarked coolly, his voice still every bit the smooth aristocrat. Draco growled into his dinner, poking at his peas.

"Have they?" His mother offered with an empty smile. Hermione shivered at the caricature of a family. It was so stiff and proper, so unlike every family dinner she had ever known. Molly Weasley would have an absolute fit.

"Unfortunately. They regret to inform us that they will be paying the contract fee to dissolve the engagement with Draco." Hermione focused on the boy at hand. He couldn't have been any older than 18. His hands had still healing cuts on them and his wand was missing. This event had clearly occurred right after the war, when he was still on trial.

"That's... Disappointing." His mother offered cautiously, her eyes on Draco waiting for a reaction. Hermione moved through the table, crossing the memory to see him violently tapping his foot against the floor.

"Indeed." His father drawled his gaze also focused on their son. "We will have to find another suitable witch of appropriate breeding. It will be much more difficult with our present… misfortune."

Draco's tapping froze and he growled in disgust, setting down his cutlery with a bit too much force.

"What was that?" Lucius questioned with an uncannily familiar eyebrow raised.

"What's the point?" Draco growled crossing his arms. "No one will want a Death Eater for a husband anyway."

Narcissa visibly flinched at his words but otherwise kept her composure. Lucius however narrowed his eyes. "We still have contacts. Relationships going back hundreds of years of pure ancestry-"

"Oh bollocks." He groaned. "After what you've dragged the family into there will be no one in Britain that wants anything to do with me."

"Draco-" his mother started eyeing her husband warily. Lucius rose one gloved hand silencing her as he stared at his son.

"We still have connections to some families in France, Russia at the worst. We will pick a second daughter of a family and she will move here."

"Oh yes and I am sure the Prophet will love knowing I had to import a wife. I am sure that she will jump at the opportunity to be a pariah." Hermione twisted her mouth in disgust at the whininess of it, not that it was necessarily unfounded. However, the tone hit a bit too close to familiar for her. She had to very consciously remind herself that in this place Draco was a teenager and that a lot of growing up happens between eighteen and twenty four. The thought didn't fully erase the uneasiness she felt.

"The papers will grow bored of you as long as you make yourself boring." Narcissa commented dabbing her napkin at her lips before discarding it. "I am sure we can find a few witches of proper lines that you may select from."

Hermione's stomach twisted in disgust at the statement, apparently a similar feeling triggered in the younger version of Draco as he stood up abruptly. "For fuck's sake mother make us sound _more_ like dogs why don't you."

"You will not use that kind of filthy language in front of your mother." The elder man stood, challenging his son..

"Because I don't want my parents to hand select my wife? How behind you have fallen. Even the muggles have banned forced marriage, Father." Draco's voice drawled in a mocking tone, letting his anger spark through the air.

"Sit. Down. Draco." His father hissed with enough venom to make her flinch, all the pity she had ever felt for the man for the man died. "We have had the conversation ad nausea. Our stance remains the same."

"No!" Draco pushed the chair back electing to stalk along the length of his side of the table. "I am sick of listening to you. Listening to you got us trapped in his house, unable to cast even the most basic of spells, isolated from the world while you owl around begging for some ancient poker partner's offspring to throw at me."

"While you may prefer to choose-" his mother started softly before being interrupted by a shout.

"Of course I want to choose! I want a life! I want agency! I want to make my own mistakes and learn from them. Hell I don't even know if I want to get married."

A silent pall fell over the table, Narcissa's eyes widened in shock. They were stunningly beautiful really, ice blue and large enough to make her look like a doll. Hermione had a hard time lining the slight waif of a woman up with the few stories about his younger years Draco had conveyed or the complicit war-hardened wife.

"You will marry." Lucius ground out forcing himself to sit.

"I will not!"

"You will select a witch of impeccable breeding."

"I said-."

"You will marry her and have heirs."

"I-"

"And you will spend the rest of your life working to further the family name, am I clear?" The man made the statement with a finality that burned at her. She had heard the tone before from Draco. It was the voice of a man who expected his commands to be obeyed. She let her eyes drift to Draco who had stopped pacing, his glare burning through the air.

"No."

"No?" His father scoffed at the very idea.

"No." Draco responded leaning forward on the table. "I will not follow this ridiculous demand."

"Draco-" Narcissa fell silent, cut off by the fury between the two men.

"I will not get married and I will not have children with whomever you decide." Hermione saw both of his parents intake a shocked breath. "If and only _if_ I find someone who _I_ want to be with then I will marry and only _if_ we choose to have children will that happen. Is that clear?"

"Draco the right sort of witches-" Narcissa ventured as her husband gripped the arm rest so tightly his knuckles went white.

"Bugger, the right sort of witches" Draco hissed, turning his ire on his mother. "If I fall in love with a filthy muggleborn and have filthy muddy children then I will! You cannot stop me!"

Hermione flinched at the unexpected sting, fighting down any emotion towards a long expired scene.

"You will end the Malfoy line!" His father roared back on his feet.

"I AM the Malfoy line!" Draco shouted back. "Don't you see. It was your unfounded medieval views that got us here in the first place."

"Purity will always conquer!"

"Harry Potter." Draco shouted back, flinging his place setting across the floor. "Severus Snape. Hermione Granger. Remus Lupin, the Dark bloody Lord. None were pureblood and all of them were twice the wizard you will ever be."

Hermione flinched at her name, the statement not an appreciation of skill but a weapon. An effective one at that. Lucius Malfoy looked shocked, his collected composure scattered like ash on the wind.

"Draco-" his mother offered softly. Before she could finish the arched window blew open crash shattering into the room. Draco dove under the table taking cover, his father sweeping his cloak around his wife for protection. Familiar black smoke coalesced into the form of two long dead faces. The Carrow siblings stood wand at the ready, their cruel gazes trained on Draco's parents.

"Oh dear." Alecto crooned in faux innocence. "It appears we have interrupted dinner.

"How rude of us." Amycus answered eyeing the two remaining plates. "Just you two tonight? Where's your boy? I had some choice words for him."

"How diplomatically put brother." Alecto cackled her wand trained on Narcissa. "Let me try... _Crucio_!"

Narcissa fell screaming her voice pitching in pain. Amycus banished the table sending it sliding across the floor to slam into the wall. Only the brief flicker of leather shoes giving hint to the boy under his coverage.

"No!" Lucius cried diving at the witch. Alecto merely stepped back breaking her hold on the now sobbing Narcissa.

"Now now, Alecto. These are very highly respected traitors. We must treat them as such." Amycus lectured pointing his wand at Lucius. "It's more like this. _Crucio_!"

Lucius spasmed falling next to his wife, groans torn violently from his throat. He was clearly more familiar with the sting of that curse that she. Even so Hermione's breath picked up, the ghost of pains long past flashing up her arm in a sharp bolt.

"Is your precious baby boy home? We wanted to play with him too." Alecto questioned ripping Narcissa up by the hair. Hermione could only watch helplessly as she was shot again with the curse. She felt sick to her stomach, trapped in the past and unable to pull herself away. She risked a glance behind her, staring out, barely visible from the wreckage she saw Draco watching, stricken in horror. She was sure she was going to drown, forever lost in the murky pain of memory with her corpse left to rot in the ancient manor.

Suddenly, Hermione felt a heavy pressure on her wrist. She glanced down curiously as the colors in room began to fade together. She was snapped back to reality with a disorienting level of precision. Her head spun wildly as her eyes adjusted to the now bright light. She looked around her, shocked at the difference. With the curtains pulled back she would see all the fine details of the room, it's marred paintings, the blast burned floor, and an absolutely enraged looking Draco Malfoy holding her wrist in a death grip.

"Draco I-"

"What are you doing here?" His voice may as well have been his father's for all the comfort it offered her. She shrank back instinctually.

"I don't know.. I just… I felt the need to come in… I didn't…" He dragged her towards the door and down the hall distinctly avoiding looking at the still glowing imprint in the center of the room. He arm ached with the lack of care and the phantom pain of a curse aimed at someone else. She stifled a groan as he pulled her along.

He yanked her out onto the patio in silence. The previously warm midday air had cooled when the sun dipped below the horizon. She had no idea she had been gone that long. She felt the ripple of magic as several incredibly powerful and a few incredibly dark locking charms slapped onto the door with a resounding clank, Draco's hand dripping blood from a slice on his palm. For once the aura was icy and hard, not the familiar comfort she usually found in it.

"I didn't know."

"That ancient manors full of dark artifacts may have some sort of poison that will lure you into their bellies and kill you where you stand?" He questioned coldly, turning on her. "Did you think you were above it? Did you think you knew better? Or did you just not care?"

"It was an accident." She bit back, trying to regain the bones in her legs.

"Oh, an accident." He drawled. "I see you just tripped an opened the door. Then proceeded to trip down the hallway and up a flight of stairs where you just happened to trip directly into a locked room and land on a glowing malicious curse. How convenient."

"The door was open. I thought-" She hissed before he cut her off.

"You didn't think!"

"Oh Fuck off." Her voice had risen to shout, attempting to match his. However, her tone did not match the pure fury in his eyes. "I am trying to explain-"

"I told you. I _told_ you that house was dangerous. You nearly died because you weren't careful!" Draco shouted. Hermione paused, taking stock of her body. She was tired yes but... Nearly died? That seemed a bit dramatic.

She pulled her wand from her pocket flicking a simple summoning spell at a nearby twig. The stick shifted slightly but otherwise laid still. She cast a weak warming charm only to have her wand barley spark before failing. At this point she doubted she could float a feather.

"Oh..."She murmured meekly. She was entirely unaware her magic had been drained. She hadn't been aware of the time passing either, an entirely new concept. She hadn't even noticed any of it until he pointed it out. _Had_ she actually been dying? That seemed like something she should have noticed... and yet.

"I'm not hurt." She tried softly, feeling her muscles drain of their remaining energy. Her legs felt like they were trying to hold her up on the deck of a ship in the middle of a storm. It was all she could manage to stay standing.

"Because I found you!" Fear began to leak into his voice, the timbre building towards hysteria. "I looked for ages for you all afternoon. Even Filly couldn't find you. We thought you had left the grounds.I thought you had left me! If I hadn't had the self loathing to retreat inside to feel sorry for myself that curse would have eaten your magic and your soul with it!"

"I didn't… I just…" Hermione felt the day catch up with her in a slow boil. She was suddenly equal parts exhausted, ashamed and heartbroken for the boy in front of her. She could only manage to bubble up enough words to form a half complete sentence. "Sorry… I'm so sorry..."

It didn't seem like enough to her but when his jaw tightened she knew he didn't partially care for eloquence at the moment. His frozen grip around his wand so tight she was afraid it may snap. He eyed the hedge like he very much wanted to throw a curse at it and given that they weren't in her workshop she wouldn't stop him if he did. Instead he watched her, his eyes glinted cruelly as he stared. She could only imagine what horribly scathing thing he would say.

"What did you see?"

"Not much." She responded quietly. But more than enough.

"That wasn't for you." He hissed forcing his fingers to release his grip on the wood. "That curse was meant for me, so I would see how my father died and my mother lost her mind. Then it would kill me too."

"Draco-"

"They didn't know I was there. They thought they would be _so_ _clever_ to catch me when I came home. They had no idea I was cowering under the table too afraid to so much as lift a finger."

"You had no magic." Hermione offered, taking a tentative step towards him.

"It doesn't matter!" He spat causing her to flinch but not slow her advance. "I should have done _something_. Potter would have. You would have. I watched my parents die. Not even the Carrows thought I was enough of a weakling that my mother's hours of screaming wouldn't call me if I were in the manor."

"You were a child!" Hermione cried.

"So were you! And you were still brave in the face of certain death!"

"I have never been brave because I wanted to be." She offered evenly, resting a hand on his shoulder. She tried not to flinch when he did, both skittish of each other's presence. "I have always been brave because I had to be. Your parents would have wanted you to live, they loved you."

"I watched them die." He responded immediately with a cold shiver snaking down his back. "I watched them _imperio_ my mother and force her to kill my father. He smiled the whole time. He didn't want her to be upset. I couldn't even manage a sob of horror. They left her alive... Mad as her sister." His voice was hallow as he stared off into the hedges, the green walls looming over them ominously. "She was a message, a permanent gift of what we deserved as traitors to both sides. By the time the aurors killed them it didn't matter, the damage was already done. They won."

The statement hung in the air listlessly as she rubbed careful circles on his back. "I can't even fucking say goodbye because she is still here but also isn't... She would have been so much better off dead."

"Draco that's not true."

"She doesn't even know who I am." The small voice seemed to echo in the air, the empty longing returned back by a mournful cry.

Hermione's mind flashed bright with the swirling memories of the well. A flicker of a mad disheveled mother firing a death curse with lethal intent… and it was his memory. Hermione had to force back a sob as her breath caught in her throat. This wasn't about her.

"And I can't even be grateful for that. Your parents are dead and you never did anything wrong. I bet you would kill to have someone who was at least a loose caricature of what you once knew." He continued to stare off into the maze as the rain began to fall. "I can't even be happy with that."

Where the previous storm felt warm on her skin, refreshing as it wicked away the hot memories of a summer night, this once felt cold. The sharp needles pining against her bathrobe as the magic holding it together ran out.

"It's not the same." She murmured as she wound herself around his back, entwining her arms around his waist, protecting him from the worst of the onslaught. She pushed away her own memories, clinging to him to keep him afloat. "It's not even close to the same."

"You're right... I deserved it, and you didn't." She couldn't suppress the whine that escaped from her throat, the painful searing in her chest giving way to vocalization.

"Why do you have to be so bloody understanding?" He murmured ruefully. She didn't bother responding, instead she pulled him from the cold marble never letting her touch leave him, and quickly led him away from a house that contained far too many haunted memories for the both of them.

**0000000000000000000000000000000000000**

The next day started with a rigid sort of ambiance for the both of them. Hermione was very good at not mentioning things, Draco was very good at pretending they had never happened. Neither was good at sticking around after the damage had been done. Their reactions were stilted and awkward, filled with comforting touches followed by quick retreats. She left to give him space after a late dinner, begging a walk on the ground. It was ruined when he stepped out himself intending to check the wards only to be apparated to her side, his own magic calling for her. She was sitting on the grass at the main gate, staring at the cursed iron. He settled down next to her.

"I'm sorry I am like this." He whispered, unable to draw up any emotion. It hadn't felt right to slip into bed with her like everything was fine so he spent the night wandering the house, unable to sleep.

"You were dealt a shite hand Draco. We all were." She responded blandly. He wondered what she was thinking as she stared at the gate. Judging by the way her hand rested on her arm, it wasn't anything good.

"I think I hate them." Draco verbalized the realization he hadn't let himself ever feel. If he expected relief at the words he was met with disappointment. "I am sure I hate my father. I think I would also hate my mother if…" His voice trailed off leaving the unspoken thought to drift away. She nodded but did nothing else for a few minutes.

"You look like him." She murmured. "Startlingly so."

"I wish I didn't." He admitted. He always wished he had more of his mother in him, her soft eyes, her expressive face. But he was every bit the cold regal heir of the Malfoy line. He suspected there was a long history of dark magic to ensure that fact.

"You can talk about it… if you want. I'm sure it's all very confusing."

"No." He responded instinctually.

"Alright." The silence hung thickly, throwing up boundaries he didn't intend to. A small part of him whispered to jump, that if he never spoke to her about things they would never work. That she wasn't like his parents. That she cared for him and could be trusted. He needed to make a choice.

"Not… not yet?" He couldn't help the small inflection at the end of the statement. He didn't dare meet her eyes but she sighed after a moment accepting the peace offering.

"Not yet then." She nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly. Her attention turned to the glittering stars above them, picking out constellations with her eyes.

"D-do you want to meet her?" He stumbled awkwardly through the question, choosing a particularly round rock on the drive to stare at.

"I-I don't want to pry." Her voice sounded strained and confused. "I've been told I do that."

"I think it may help her." He started, forcing himself to picture his mother at his best, when all she cared for was his own health and happiness. "To see someone new…. Someone with me."

"Even me?" She questioned bitterly. An evil creature of guilt coiled up inside him at that statement. He did every bit of his part establishing her self doubt. He forced himself away from it, reassuring her was more important than his personal loathing.

"Especially you." He met her eyes with a smirk. She smiled weakly back. "It will be fine. And if not who cares, she's crazy."

"Draco-" Her eyes melted back into a painfully heartbroken expression.

"Let me handle it how I want to, Granger." It came out a bit sharp, in spite of his efforts. "I have a bit more practice than you."

"Alright then." She responded clearly wanting to say more on the topic but holding her tongue. A rare feat. After a few minutes of silence she spoke again.

"Your hair is getting long." He had noticed it too. He hadn't really found any time to cut it since Christmas, and it was now lightly brushing his shoulders. "I could cut it. If you would like."

"Didn't take you for a barber." He scoffed halfheartedly.

"I'd have to look up the spell again. It's been awhile." She smiled kindly. "You should have seen the first time I cut Ron's. You would have had insult fodder for years."

"That bad, huh?" He questioned, feeling the tightness inside him start to relax.

"Worse." She chuckled lightly. He took no pains to hide how much it relieved him. "He was practically bald on the back half of his head."

"Only the back half?"

"Only the back half." She confirmed.

"Unfortunate." He responded. "And not a mark in your favor as a hairdresser."

"Oh screw you Ma-" Her annoyance was interrupted by the crack of apparition.

Draco jumped at the sound of the new arrival. He tried not to flinch as Hermione's own wand appeared in her hand as well. When exactly would they stop assuming every drop in visit was an attack?

The gates began to creak open, recognizing the magical signature of whoever had arrived. It was as they parted, a meticulously put together and yet still huffing Pansy Parkinson appeared.

"There you are! I was afraid I would have to stomp up to the manor to find you after your flat was empty!"

"Parkinson?" Hermione coughed out in disbelief. He had lowered his wand but she certainly hadn't.

"And you are?" The stylish witch responded curtly. "Nevermind. It's not important."

""I beg your-"

"Why are you here Pansy?" Draco questioned tiredly. There were very few reasons Pansy Parkinson would need to go looking for him personally. Most consisting of the world being on fire or some sort of publicity emergency.

"I owe Zabini and fate has finally called to collect." She smiled, clearly relieved to have a debt removed from the ledger. "He's gotten himself into another spat. This one bad enough to get them kicked out of the Menagerie."

"Is he okay?" Hermione questioned worriedly, finally withdrawing her wand.

"I'm not his keeper." Pansy shot while inspecting her nails. "Last I saw they were both expelled from the club still exchanging curses with the Carrow twins."

He stiffened at that. They had all made a point to avoid the Carrow twins since the elder set of siblings had been killed while trying to detain them. The Carrows had a habit of sending children off to live with other family members, making it hard to identify who the actual parent was and the girls had been clear favorites of their elders. The twin's icy demeanor towards him at their trial was enough to freeze dragon fire.

"Let's go." Hermione responded, grabbing his sleeve and jerking them towards the gates. "If we are too late to break it up then at least we can apply some counter-curses."

"That's not how the Carrows fight, Granger. They weren't Gryffindors." Pansy scoffed as she stalked ahead of them. Hermione flinched, her grip on his sleeve loosening but not stopping her movement. "I hope you are familiar with the apparition point for Saint Mungos. They're a nasty pair of witches. Hestia in particular has always had a chip on her shoulder. Probably something to do with that wide forehead of hers."

"I thought you didn't know who I was." Hermione grumbled the wards sliding over them as they passed out of range.

"I don't. Who are you again?" Pansy disappeared with a crack. Draco became vaguely aware of the magic being gathered up for Hermione's own exit.

"I can take care of this. It's probably going to get dicey." He said, shaking loose his arm. Hermione looked at him for a moment.

"Precisely why I need to come. You'll be helpless without me."

"I'm no stranger to a scrap, Hermione. Have you seen who I spend my time with? Just give me a kiss for good luck and I will be back in a pinch." He smiled, wrapping his arm around her, gathering her up into an insistent kiss. As he pulled away his stomach turned with the noxious pull of a side along apparition.

They landed on damp cobblestone. In the process of gathering his balance he stumbled a few feet away from her. Pansy was waiting impatiently, her heels clicking on the stone.

"That way." Pansy pointed off towards an abandoned warehouse. Faint flashes of spell fire glowed lightly in the window. He took off immediately, barely hearing the conversation behind them.

"Aren't you coming?" Hermione called over her own shoulder.

"Are you kidding me? I have my nails in a Brazilian wizard richer than Crocus in there." Pansy's voice began to fade into the background. "You can tell that cad we're even for the wedding."

He pulled up just short of the rusted out employee entrance. As he reached out toward the metal his fingers burned painfully, eliciting a rather colorful swear. He pulled back from the rather nasty locking charm, just as a stray shot of spellfire broke through a nearby window. The spell hit the brick wall of the building next door, melting it into a bubbling puddle of acid.

"That doesn't seem like a regulation curse." Hermione added pulling up next to him, her wand out studying the charm

"The doors' locked." He tried a basic counterspell, unsurprised when it failed. "We may have to blast it off."

" _Terra cuniculum._ " The earth ahead of them hollowed out, creating a small tunnel, just large enough for one human to squirm through on their belly.

"How do you propose-"

Hermione took a few steps back before running at the door at full speed, grabbing him by the robe as she went. She pulled him into a slide, her wand pointed forward as she went.

" _Antes momento._ " Draco felt the pull of the spell as it sucked them through the tunnel, his head snapping back to fit. When they popped up on the other side they were greeted by a hail of poorly aimed spellfire. Thankfully he had been prepared for it. Even so his shield broke under a rather evil looking purple curse, sending them diving behind the nearest set of boxes.

"A bit of warning next time!" He shouted over the sounds of a collapsing structure as he pulled her close to his chest to shield her.

A splash of red and a yelp off to the left got them moving again. Dodging across an expanse of open territory, her shield charm glinting bright silver as he fired off curses as coverage. Just before they reached the stack of shipping boxes a curse aimed at their feet blasted them apart giving him just enough time to perform a feather-fall charm on her before he hit the ground with a hard thud his ankle twisting awkwardly. He rolled into the fall, sliding across from to the two idiots he considered best friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Terra cuniculum
> 
> The tunneling charm. Provides a thin, mole like tunnel that will burrow under something and reappear on the surface, just on the other side of the barrier. Paired with Antes momento for ease of movement.
> 
> Antes momento
> 
> The forward momentum charm. Maintains momentum at the time of casting until the charm has been cut at which point the speed will begin to slow. Highly inaccurateover longer distances, it should only be used on objects nearby.
> 
> Soul-Sucking Curse
> 
> A nasty dark curse that replays the darkest memory of a place. The spell pulls in a watcher using the wizards inherant curiosity and a few minor compulsion spells. While the watcher observes the memory the spell slowly drains away their magical core and upon completion of the memory consumes the watcher's soul.
> 
> Mrs. Pansy Zabini
> 
> I was wholly unable to insert this plot line in anywhere BUT. Pansy's parents began the process of marrying her off to some old pure-blood in Russia shortly after graduation. They had been unable to find any other prospects for her after the war. Blaise stepped up to offer his housemate a marriage of convenience and to quietly move away from his family estates and keep his mother from questioning his relationship with Draco. Blaise and Pansy were married shortly after the war in a private ceremony to keep out of the public eye. When Pansy's parents died a year later they divorced quietly and no one was ever the wiser. The Elder Mrs. Zabini, of course, had no qualms about either of their on the side gallivanting. As far as she knows they are still married.


	49. A Crown Without a King

“Dear Merlin I am glad to see you! And you even brought me someone useful!” Blaise shouted as Hermione was thrown into cover behind a particularly large shipping container just to the left of them. She landed softly under the effects of a feather-fall charm and was able to right herself fairly quickly. Draco groaned as he rolled in behind her, firing off a powerful stunning hex over the top of the metal box. 

“What did you do?” He hissed ducking back into cover just as a bright blue bolt missed his hair by millimeters. Her heart leapt in her throat at the near miss, something he didn’t seem to think twice about.

“Look they started it alright.” Blaise growled, turning his head to shout into the empty air. “BECUASE THEY ARE FUCKING CUNTS WHO DON’T KNOW WHEN TO KEEP THEIR WHORE MOUTHS SHUT!”

The resulting spellfire had her covering her head as debris rained down on them like snow. When the attack slowed she uncovered her hair, hissing over to the dark man firing off an painful looking hex. “Do all your breakups end this way? Or are you just feeling particularly immature tonight.”

“Hey-.” Blaise said as an orange spell cut it’s way toward them, with an impressive amount of skill it was deflected by Draco’s wand. “It’s not that simple, okay?”

“Sure it is.” She leaned around the edge of the box spying a moving figure and shooting a quick  _ ebulbio  _ jinx, catching someone for only a moment before the counter was cast. “Just keep it in your trousers.”

“That’s not what this is about, Granger.” He eyed Draco warily, the blonde skillfully deflecting more serious curses while hurling back his own fire. His jaw was clenched tightly, eyes broiling with rage. Hermione felt a sickening feeling as she realized the likely cause of the fight. With a bit more anger than she usually allowed to leak out she fired off another curse over the box. “ _ Cantis. _ ”

“You helped lead a fucking insurrection Granger!” Blaise groaned zeroing in on a now singing twin. The jinx had been light enough to bounce off the wall behind them and give away their position. “Don’t you have anything better than schoolyard hexes?”

“Fuck off. After that insurrection what makes you think I would ever want to learn anymore violent curses. Cover me.” She rolled across the gap, unnoticed as spells focused on the taller wizards firing off flashy spells. She came to a stop just short of Theo.

“You two okay?” Hermione focused on pushing down the immediate terror of the minor wound that sliced across Blaise’s cheek as he ducked down. It was a glancing blow so it didn’t appear too deep, but judging from the sickly yellow seepage it was not exactly a standarding cutting curse.

“No.” The usually sunny Theo was leaning back against the stack of boxes, gripping his leg painfully. He had paled dramatically. Draco swore as a blasting curse slammed into the metal directly overhead, forcing him to deflect the falling debris. She threw up her wand, lending an extra push to his magic causing the falling pipes to shoot across the warehouse.

“What hit you?” She questioned. A quick examination was all but impossible, the injury hidden high on his leg and under the thick cloth of his trousers.

“Bone shattering spell.” He moaned while gasping through the pain. 

“I don’t have anything for that. You’ll have to get out before you bleed to death.” Hermione determined, standing quickly enough to fire a levitation spell in the direction of what was hopefully the Carrow twins. Judging from the resulting yelp she had at least hit near enough to them to knock them off their feet. “Only a proper healer can handle it.”

There was a flash of flame as she helped Blaise get Theo to an upright position. Draco disappeared moments later, another  _ incendio  _ fired from his wand. The cut on Blaise’s face was growing at a concerning rate and this close up looked even more rotted than before.

“Can you apparate?” Draco questioned urgently, popping his head up to their right to deflect an unknown ice curse that apparently hoped to skewer them where they stood.

“I will need some space.” Blaise hissed, turning his own wand to the attack, firing out an uncomfortably destructive explosion spell. The metal panel that hid their attackers twisted violently flushing out the twins, forcing them to duck behind a pillar. Hermione wasn’t sure what would happen if it had actually hit.

“We can give you space.” Hermione confirmed untangling herself from Theo. She pulled out a bottle of her fogbank potion. While usually used as an ingredient, a few tablespoons would be more than enough to blind the attackers. Draco nodded in confirmation edging to the otherside of the boxes ready to shoot out. “Stay down until you are ready.”

She lobbed the heavy glass bottle overhead, sighing as she realized belatedly that she should have warned Draco about the loss of senses. The bottle shattered, a thick cloud of fog blossoming out of it, vaporized into the air of the warehouse. She forced herself not to panic as her ability to hear was replaced by complete silence. She stepped around the corner into the thick fog.

She darted off to the left, eyes carefully watching the ground in front of her to avoid tripping. Once she had put enough distance between her and the boys she fired off a showy firework charm in the general direction of the twins. The bright explosion was silent but drew their attention well enough to draw heavy retaliation. Hermione settled behind a collapsed scaffolding, her chest pulling rapid breaths as a multitude of vicious curses sailed by. Nearby an exploding curse hit the pavement showering her with cement. She hadn’t dueled in ages and was horribly out of shape. In a one on one fight she wouldn’t last long. A large lightning spell crackeled through the fog some distance away, pulling attention to Draco.

She took a deep breath, focusing her mind as she scanned the wall of fog. “ _ Homorevealuls _ .” Shimmering red shapes came in to focus various distances away. With a snudden snap, the two she recognized as Blaise and Theo disappeared, leaving her and Draco free to retreat. She spotted him a bit in front of her, halfway up a stack of something. The fog was beginning to wear away, her footsteps tapping against the pavement as sound returned.

“How lovely to see you tonight Malfoy!” One of the twins hissed. 

“Yes. While we so enjoy playing with your little lap dogs they aren’t nearly as fun as torturing you.” Hermione dove away as a flash of green shot past them. She froze, at the color her heart thudding in her chest. Her brain could rationally say that it was an evergreen not a sickly veredent green but it did nothing to quell her fear.

“Fuck off Hestia. I know you are a few selections short of the genetic pool but that is hardly an excuse.” She was able to make out his form as he slid down the pile of what appeared to be newspapers dodging another curse. He slid to her right, his wand nearly twitching toward her as he looked up. He took a step forward only to be nearly pelted by spells so dark Hermione would swear she felt her magic weep.

Draco scowled for a moment before deciding something. With a deep sigh he stepped back schooling himself into a calm. Suddenly his shape twisted, shrinking down to disappear in the wreckage. Hermione did her best to distract, digging out a sound storage potion and firing it over her head. It landed somewhere in the distance with a crash, a screaming female voice shouting out lyrics with a keening electric guitar.

She jumped as she felt a cool rope slide around her ankle, her wand turned toward the source. When she noticed a small black snake with a single pale white line tracing down it’s back. It’s tongue tickled lightly against her jeans as its round silver eyes focused on her face. She was struck silent even as Cordelia's voice faded away. She was barely able to contain her giggle as the snake untangled, morphing back into a distinctly put out man.

“If you tell either of those idiots I will kill you.” The threat in his voice was erased by the careful hand he lifted to her face, inspecting a tender spot on her cheek. His voice was low, covered by an enraged smattering of insults. “Are they out?”

“Yes.” She whispered back pulling him behind a pillar, just as their presence was noticed.

“Oh? Got a girlfriend there Malfoy.” Flora, probably, shouted in a higher pitched voice. “Does she know what a fucking phsycotic wreak your mother is?”

Hermione swore, shooting off a langlock jinx as Draco tensed beside her. She smirked as the murmured sounds of interrupted speech echoed in the warehouse. Unfortunately, the other one was more than happy to finish the thought. 

“It’s only fair you tell her. After all, madness clearly runs in the Malfoy line. If you can even get past that sterility problem.” Draco rolled his eyes as a bludgeoning curse ricocheted off the metal post, vibrating down her spine. 

“Let’s get out of here. I’ll distract them, you run.” He whispered, the quite tone belong the cold rage in his eyes. Hermione entangled her hand in his, holding him back just as a nast shot of yellow fired at them from around the corner. His body shook, his breath ragged. She had grown to recognize the signs of magic depletion and he was running too low.

“We go together.” She hissed, fighting off the wave of exhaustion. She was still exhausted from yesterday and didn’t know how much longer he could hold out either. 

He scowled, craning to shout at them. “At least I am better off than you two. Tell me Flora do you call Alecto Mum or aunt? Or both, all things considered!”

“How dare-” Hermione spun out of his grip turning low as she spiraled into the open. Her eyes met a still speaking Flora firing off a stunning hex as a deep red curse sailed just past her head, making her muscles twitch in memory. She saw the stun hit, the girl's body falling to the ground in a heap.

Before she could celebrate a joint cracks of multiple apparitions sounded in the background. Feet slamming onto pavement echoing in the emptiness. Hermione froze as the aurors broke through the lock, blasting the door off its hinges. 

“We need to go!” Draco hissed, pushing her behind him. She felt the pull of the apparition and she wrapped her arms around his chest from behind, her eyes locked on the swarming aurors. Noone she recognized but it was still too close for comfort. She had decided she was most definitely not cut out for battling when she saw the still conscious form of Hestia firing off a silent curse. A yellow bolt exploding from her wand rocketing toward them. The world moved in slow motion as she felt the twisting suck of apparition start to pull at her and Draco. She saw the other witch smile as her vision spun, the world twisting away.

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Hermione held on feeling his muscles strain as he tried to keep focus on the apparition. They landed in an unsteady stumble,struggling for footing at the front door of his flat. Hermione barely caught him as he collapsed against her in a painful groan.

“Draco?” She questioned shakily pushing open the door with her foot. He gave no indication that he heard her. As the adrenaline wore off he made it approximately two steps before collapsing while ripping at his stomach. 

“Draco! ” She surged forward,falling by his side. He didn’t respond as his breath deepened to heavy pants, a cold sweat breaking out on his body as he tried to purge the intrusive magic. “Are you okay? Pinky!?!”

“Gone.” He groaned managing to roll over onto his back. The movement seemed to incite a new wave of pain as she knelt next to him trying to remember the last curse sent his way. She opened her bag shoving her hand deep into the confines.

“ _ Accio _ The Curse Collection Field Guide!” A small notepad sized book shot into her hand. Without pausing she cracked open the spine and flipped to the section on color. A rainbow color wheel appeared in the air front of her, spells categorized by shade. She jabbed her finger at the yellows, adjusting for the almost greenish tinge to it. With a quick pop the wheel disappeared, a short list of known spells in similar hues scratching along the page. Hermione felt blessed that there weren’t many yellow spells to begin with and that most of them were mostly household charms. Her finger paused on one word, the worst spell out of this list, bringing up a short blurb about it. With little delicacy she ripped his shirt up, revealing a bright red circle the size of an apple. It was lanced through the center by a deep tunneling wound. She didn’t have to look long to understand what it meant, Hades Bane was a popular curse in medieval history. Known for it’s slow and painful death as it turned the target's blood to acid letting it burn away their insides.

“Burns.” His consciousness appeared to leave his body becoming nothing but a haze of pain as she hovered over him unable to do anything. She aimed her wand towards his study.

“ _ Accio oxynisium _ curse books.” She cast a quick  _ finite incantatem  _ over the wound praying for such a simple solution. The spell fizzled out, unable to find a target just as a singular tomb came shooting into the living room. Hermione recoiled against the thing, coated as it was in such thick dark magic. It was only Draco’s growing weakness that had her snapping at the book, flicking it open to the referenced spell.

“ _ Subsisto interitus”  _ The stasis spell settled into his skin weakly, only pausing the creeping red edges for a moment before growth slowly returned. 

The resulting pages held a vile amount of information about the best place to cast the curse for the most amount of pain or the worst conditions to subject the victim to while it did its work. Hermione gagged even as she continued to flip through the pages looking for interrogation techniques. The way she reasoned it, it couldn’t be an effect torture device unless there was some counter to it. Unless the counter was a quick death, which Hermione would absolutely not accept.

Thankfully, written in the smallest ink on the very last page as a footnote she found what she was looking for. 

_ Hades Bane is a widely useful tool on a variety of mediums and enemies. It is highly recommended that the antidote is kept on hand at all times while learning the curse unless an unlimited supply of test subjects can be supplied without susciousion. The best counter for the curse is a Potion of Ambrosia. _

Hermione swore, stumbling towards Draco’s study, loath to leave him in his suffering. She slammed open the door, pushing toward his potions cabinet. With a careless blasting curse that likely broke half of the potions inside she ripped open the previously locked door. She had what she needed, a vial of manuka honey, pixie tears, magnolia blossoms, and a golden goblet. In a swift twirl of her wand she swirled them all into a perfectly golden liquid the consistency of nectar. All she needed was...

“ _ Accio _ stardust.” The small stoppered jar shot to her hand. She ripped out the stopper when her heart dove into her stomach. It was completely empty. Her eyes widened in fear, staring at the last ingredient, missing. She tried to recall if there was any in her workshop only to remember that her entire store currently sat in Draco’s guesthouse, no less than a thirty minute walk away from the gates. That was even if she could successfully aparate to a place she had only arrived at once while half dead. She needed a substitute and quickly.

“Accio _ ambrosia recipe.” _ She discarded any duplicates of her collection from the pile, a low moan ripping through the air. Snatching the nearest and likely the oldest example she stumbled to the living room refusing to meet defeat. She had to force herself not to stop as she took in his prone form. His skin had gone sallow, sinking into an ice cold gray. He trembled in waves of pain, hardly aware of his surroundings. Flicking open the book she found her answer, veiling in a life-altering choice. The stardust served as a catalyst, kicking the potion to activate. The only other suitable powersource would be another ingredient that qualified as a ‘gift from the gods’. She shuffled through her mind for any other possible source in the category but it all came up blank. As Draco shuttered beneath her she knew there was no other option. Consequences be damned.

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Fire. Draco had never known fire like he did at that very moment. His insides roiled in a burning liquid as bits of his body tore open, moving viscera into cavities that they were never supposed to inhabit. His breathing hitch as he felt his kidney slide around his stomach. He was very acutely aware he was going to die. Even as Hermione faded in and out of his vision he wished desperately she wasn’t present to witness this. She had seen enough death already, they all had. And yet, he knew she was far too noble to leave him in his suffering, even at her own in return.

“Leave.” He panted out as she flicked through a book, pausing on page to stare at the words. She froze for a moment, a decision made in her mind before standing up swiftly aiming her wand at the floo. He forced his eyes open as his lung burst, a horrid suffocating pain collapsing into his chest. The silvery rook shone in the dark of his flat, a beautiful reminder in his last moments.

“Malfoy’s flat. Please hurry.” The rook shot off in a blur. He was vaguely aware something was screaming, perhaps it was him. He hoped that neither Theo or Blaise would get that message, they didn’t need to see this. They didn’t need to think it was their fault. When the green flare of the floo burned against his vision the shapes began to fade.

“Hermione! You’re- GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Draco felt a slice of magic on his casting hand. Barely perceivable in the haze of pain.

“Harry stop! Please! He’s dying.” Her voice was hysterical, he could hear the tears clouding it’s clarity. He really hated when she cried, he wished he was able to comfort her enough that she would stop. “I need your help!”

“You want me to help him?!?” Harry? Oh, right. Potter. She called Potter here. Well that was… a choice. He supposed it was better than either of the boys though. He felt her hand trace along his stomach, a cooling balm against the fire of his skin before the pain swallowed him back up again.

“Please! Please, Harry!”

“He took you! You don’t know what you are saying!”

“He didn’t! I know I have been a bad person and I know I don’t deserve your help but- Please Harry. Help him. Don’t do it for me. Do it because it’s the right thing. He can’t die! He just can’t.” Her sobs stung his heart in a way that made the physical pain of his body detach from himself. He cracked open his eyes, just enough to make out the concrete dust splattered chest and her stunningly caring face above him. Even in death he was still making mistakes. He desperately wished to raise his hand, to rub her cheek and let her know that he loved her more than life itself. Theo was right. He should have told her. He wanted to tell her to let him go and find happiness back with people who knew her, who loved her half as much as he did and hope it would be enough. The most he could manage was a single swipe of his hand on her palm and sickly wet cough.

“What do you need?” The voice was strained and conflicted.

He finally gave way to the darkness, his heart slamming against his chest as it worked overtime to correct the mass chaos in his body. It was selfish but he really wished the last thing he saw had been her smile. But he would take what he could get, and he was always a selfish man.

0000000000000000000000000000

“I- I need some of your blood.”

She watched the emotions flicker across her old friend's face, fighting between his conscience and his distrust. Draco groaned below her, fading quickly, his head cradled softly in her lap as his pulse weakened.

“Hermione…” He trailed off, his hand drifting to the small white scar on his right forearm. But, this wasn’t the same. Not even close.

“Please Harry.” She was fully aware tears were leaking from her eyes and didn’t bother to fight them back. Her runaway emotions could be dealt with later. “The blood of a Hero is the only thing that will finish this potion. Without it he will die.”

“If I don’t give it… would you take it?” He asked darkly, his eyes tracking hers. She glanced down to brush the limp hair from Draco’s forehead, suddenly feeling like she had not spent enough time appreciating how soft it was. God they had spent so much time hating each other. Why?

“Hermione?”   
  


“I…I don’t- Don’t make me choose.”She would like to think that she wouldn’t force him. She probably could if she wanted to. It wouldn’t kill him after all. Sure it was for selfish reasons but isn’t any life work a few inconsequential drops of blood? She sighed sadly, knowing that no matter how she rationalized it, she wouldn’t ever harm Harry. “Hasn’t there been enough death already?”

“I don’t even know you anymore!”Harry threw his arms up and started pacing. Hermione continued to stare down at Draco until his footsteps slowed. 

“Why him?” He questioned harshly. Hermione’s eyes landed on his fist, curled up tightly and pressed against his legs. “You left us all Hermione. You were one of my best friends and you didn’t even say goodbye.”

“Harry there isn’t time-”

“I would have understood!” He shouted, the sound being swallowed by the useless plush decor around them. “I have always understood! It doesn’t matter why. I would have! I would have let you go if I had only known you would be alright! So it doesn’t make any sense. Why him? Why is it when you finally come back to us it’s in desperation over Malfoy!”

Hermione paused, wasting seconds they didn’t have. She wasn’t thinking, she already knew the answer. It just felt like she was telling the wrong man first. She trailed a finger lightly over Draco’s cheek, noting in alarm his decreasing body temperature. She locked eyes with Harry, knowing the exact moment when he saw it too but said it anyway; if only because she demanded some sort of compensation from the universe for putting her here in the first place.

“Because love isn’t logical Harry.”

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Liquid rushed down his throat, forcing him to swallow or drown. The cooling sensation settled in his chest, calming his breath and just barely edging away the pain. He came back in a blur, desperately trying to fall back into nothingness even as his body forced himself awake. He hurt, if he had died he wouldn’t still hurt. If he was gone his fingertips would not be spasming against the rough carpet. With a deep growl he forced his eyes into consciousness, sending a silent prayer that the lighting was still dim.

He glanced over to see Harry Potter sitting on his chair, Hermione awkwardly dabbing a healing salve on his arm and muttering spells as a wound closed up. Heavy green eyes were trained on him, anger and confusion swirling around them.

“We will talk in the morning, Hermione. He’s up.” Potter didn’t really have the capacity for venom in Draco’s opinion. The man didn’t even _ try _ to kick him in the stomach and he could _ barely  _ hear the hatred in the words as the wizard stepped into the floo and the flames faded away. He must be having an off day. Hermione, for her part, rushed over instantly, her hands rubbing down his chest as she pulled him into her lap, her hands rubbing his temples, coaxing more of him awake.

Warm drops landed on his cheek, drawing his attention upward. He was vaguely aware of the sensation of flesh knitting together inside of his body. It was oddly itchy. She was crying again, he hated that.

“Hey.” He rasped out. “It’s fine. He just is worried for you. It will all be fine.”

“It’s not fine.” She whispered back, bending to rest her forehead on his. The flush of warmth against his skin just reminded him of how cold he was. “There is no going back now, everyone will know. Blaise, Theo, your mother...”

Her voice trailed off into the air. Draco couldn’t really identify the problem, his brain was having a hard time coming up with issues at the moment other than the fact she was still crying and he wanted it to stop.

“Shhh, it's not important. We’re both alive and together. We will get through it.” Something dangerous flashed behind her eyes as she pulled back, steeling herself. He would have reached out for her if he had more control of his healing body.

“We will.” She reached for her wand, an apology written on her face. Draco had barely a moment of awareness to throw up his mental walls.

_ “Obliviate.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World building with om
> 
> Sound Storage potion:
> 
> Stores the sound of it's very short brewing process. This sound then remains bottles up until exposed to air.
> 
> Fog bank potion:
> 
> Based of of Purview Darkness power the fog bank potion is collected from the moors late at night and concentrated down into a liquid. When added to potions it can be used to add opaque effects, when released it billows out into an obscuring mist.
> 
> Ambrosia:
> 
> The drink of the gods in greek mythology. This potion is a common death curse reversal but due to the cost of the ingredients is very rarely used.


	50. A Holy Fool

Draco woke to a splitting headache on his couch at way-too-early o'clock. He groaned as he rolled, grimacing at the once comfortable couch. When had it gotten so stiff? He bought this piece in Venice only a year ago for its plushness and style, there was no way it had already worn out. He cracked open his eyes only to be assaulted by sunlight.

The gleaming morning cut through his bleary gaze like toffee cracking. His discomfort only continued as he pulled himself up to glance around the room. A shooting pain lanced through his stomach with anger and resentment, as if his whole body was rioting against the disturbance to his sleep. When he lifted his shirt, he revealed a bright red circle about the width of his open palm. He turned his confused attention on the room. While not lying in shambles, some things were certainly off. His coffee table was pushed from the center of the room, his rug by the fireplace had a folded up edge, and a large dent was present on the wall behind him. What on earth had happened to him?

He rubbed at his face trying to recall the previous night, the images passing by like ships in the night. The Menagerie, Blaise and Theo, Pansy, curses, pain. Blaise must have gotten into another fight, this time with someone dangerous. He was working up the energy for a fire call when his floo burst to life, his wards crackling as they broke.

"Move! Canvas the place. Check every closet, room, trunk, everything." The mob of people landed in his living space when a burst of green flames and floo powder. He swiped at his wand only to find it flying towards a familiar scowling redhead.

Ronald Weasley looked severely put out as his team of aurors scuttled about all but trashing his flat. He flinched as he heard the sound of something smashed, he hoped it wasn't his crystal bar set. A small buzz at the back of his head triggered, stopping his thoughts on a dime. Before he could reflect on it the Minister of Magic stepped through the flames.

"Where is she Malfoy?" He questioned. His icy gaze was enough to quell even Draco's outrage. Something told him that the wizard was not to be pushed right now.

"What are you talking about Potter? And why are there ants swarming my living quarters?" He grimaced as someone blew the door off his study. "You'll be paying for that."

"You know why! Where is Hermione? She was supposed to be in my office this morning." Harry all but shouted, held back only by a long suffering Weasley.

"Granger?" Draco sighed, vaguely remembering his previous conversations about the witch. "For fucks sake. I told you I hadn't seen her since graduation."

"Filthy liar-"

"Calm down, mate." Draco cocked his head in confusion as Ron Weasely sent him a sympathetic look. Since when were they ever on the same team? Images flashed in his mind of a visit to a muggle bar and a stilted but not awful conversation with the man. Whatever had possessed him to suffer that he would never know but was at least grateful for the interference.

"I will need some specifics." Draco commented as he leaned back into his horridly uncomfortable sofa with a grimace. He closed his eyes trying to picture last night's memory past the haze of alcohol. Dueling was not against the law, not if unforgivables weren't cast.

"You were here, with her, last night. Half dead. I should have let you die." Potter hissed, pinning him with a look of hate that was so dangerous Draco was reminded of a rather uncomplimentary comparison to the Dark Lord. Not that he would be sharing that thought with the wizards. "I swear if you've so much as given her a paper cut-"

"Don't remember much of last night." He yawned, crossing his arms. He was usually quite angry about these things, his temper lashing out quickly and indiscriminately. He _was_ still angry but it was schooled under a surface of nonchalance. His father would be proud.

"We will see about that. _Legilimens!"_ Draco flinched as the spell tore into his memories with an unexpected fevor, much stronger than when he had gone digging for the same reason months ago. With a growl Draco flicked away the invading mind.

"You will forgive me if I don't want someone so volatile in my head." He responded acidly, eyeing the other man who was currently holding his head while glaring at Draco.

"All clear sir. Nothing alive in here." A stone faced auror responded over his shoulder. That's right. He had sent Pinky away… on vacation… for some reason? Odd. He didn't even think house elves could take vacations. Where would they go? A resort's broom closet?

"Harry." Ron started his hand on Potter's shoulder. "Are you sure-"

"Of course I am sure!" Harry hissed turning on his friend. "You all saw her Patronus come for me. I showed you the memory!"

"Harry we saw a crow come in and whisper something only you heard before you dove into the nearest floo." Ron responded firmly. Draco looked on in confusion, wondering how pissed Blaise was going to be at the turn of events. "Her patronus was an otter."

"But the memory-"

"Was outlandish and blurry. Maybe it was a dream. After all, she was cradling Malfoy whispering sweet nothings in his ear on his deathbed." Weasley looked at him appraisingly and Draco just shrugged, not sure what was going on. "He just looks hungover to me."

"You don't understand!"

"Look I know you miss her but-"The red head offered softly.

"Check his memories." Harry shot turning viciously on Draco. "His will match up."

"I beg your pardon?" Draco responded back wholly incredulous at the very idea of letting anyone stumble around his brain looking for any evidence to implicate him in Merlin-knew-what.

"Harry. That requires paperwork and-"

"He'll consent." Potter's eyes met his in an evil grin. "He has nothing to hide, right Malfoy?"

He was about to protest when he remembered the fight from last night. He still wasn't sure what had happened and while he doubted his friends had done anything _too_ below board, if Potter went on a warpath, they would be swept up in it. He weighed the option carefully before answering.

"I don't know where mu-ggleborn is." He kept his face placid even in the wave of confusion as he tripped over the word. Judging from the way Potter's grip tightened on his wand, it was a good save. "However, if I let you run wild through my mind I have some conditions."

"You don't-"

"Let's hear them." Weasley interrupted, rubbing his temples with a scowl. "I would like to clarify that in the eyes of the law this is wholly voluntary until a warrant is obtained."

Draco had no doubt considering the Minister was the one demanding it, it would be granted anyway. He might as well get something out of it. He eyed Potter, who was watching his every move with suspicion.

"The idiot is right on that account. I have nothing to hide." Draco responded watching the anger broil as Harry shook. He turned his attention back to Weasley. "First off, you will stick with memories only pertaining to Gr-… the witch." Her name felt weird on his tongue and he couldn't manage to use it now that he was properly awake. "Secondly, you do not use these memories to implicate me in any charges now or in the future. And lastly," He pinned his gaze back on the fuming half blood. "I will not be bothered by this again. I find it rather unsavory that the Minister of Magic is abusing his power to torment a non-guilty party about some childish obsession of his."

"Fu-"

"Granted." Weasley responded, sending the Minister a quelling look. "On two conditions, the first is you will not be pardoned any unforgivables cast. Secondly, you will make no mention of this outside of this room."

Draco was confused by the subtle confidence from Weasley that he wouldn't find anything. Some sort of tiff between the two best friends perhaps. "Deal. You will find no Unforgivables cast and I have no interest in the firestorm that would surround either of us."

Weasley nodded before Harry stepped forward menacingly. Draco repressed a flinch as he pulled up his wand.

"Mate." Ron sighed evenly, stopping the motion. "I'll take care of this. You're out of the field, remember?"

Potter snarled but lowered the sprig of holly, never taking his eyes off Draco. Seemingly satisfied Ron stepped forward, raising his own length of willow. He didn't even need to verbalize the spell before Draco felt the man prodding around his walls, testing out Draco's resistance. With a grimace he lowered his barrier's allowing the slimy feeling of another consciousness to pervade his thoughts.

He tried to repress the surprise that Ronald Weasley was actually good at something and the man drifted through his mind with very little pain. Judging by the general feeling of amusement he had failed. The first memory Ron flicked over was of the battle of Hogwarts, Draco was in the courtyard, facing down Potter holding his wand out dramatically. Fuck he looked awful. Skin and bones, pale, weak. In the background he could just make out a rather soft looking collection of curls before Weasley pulled away from the memory like it burned him.

The next memory, true to his word did not occur until just last year. He was in his office with Blaise, a mound of paperwork on his desk.

" _"What do you know about Hermione Granger?"_

_"The muggle swot? From the golden gang of heros? I dunno, I haven't heard anything about her in ages. Why?"_

_"I've heard whispers lately about a mysterious potion brewing witch. I have my suspicions."_

_"She was always better than you at potions."_

Weasley paused for a moment before flicking to the next memory, his office blurred away only to reform with minute changes.

_"Before I kick you out of my office. Do you have anything else to share?"_

_"Hm? Like dinner recommendations?"_

_"About that issue I had you look into."_

_"Ah, Granger. Well…_

A stack of newspapers appeared on his desk. _Hermione Granger Missing!_ Flashed across the headlines. That's right, she pulled a vanishing act hadn't she. Clever witch that one.

_"From everything I have found she disappeared sometime after the summer of 99'. Huge scandal. It was in all the papers at the time but we were… you know."_

_"She's not been heard of since? Even, behind the scenes?"_

_"Nothing from my informants. She really does appear to have just vanished into thin air. The investigation by the ministry was massive but eventually petered out. There was thought that when Potter became minister he would start it up again, but he never did."_

_"Any idea why not?"_

_"For a while there were rumblings that he had gotten rid of her himself, as she stood to be next in line for Minister after graduation. But those rumors came out to be purely speculative. If he knows where she is he isn't sharing."_

_"Sounds like she doesn't want to be found."_

_"Safe to say. Well?"_

_"No, I must have been mistaken."_

He felt the general curiosity from Weasley as he replayed Blaise's comment about their time after the war and his 'informants'. With an insistence push from his mind, Weasley kept his promise moving on to the next scene.

It was the one where Potter had accosted him in the ministry. Weasley's disapproval was apparent and the memory flickered again, this time coalescing in the Menagerie. He was becoming quite familiar with a stunning raven haired witch when Potter launched into his tirade again, this time pulling in his date. He felt the coolness slip around his mind at some choice words but Ron again didn't comment on it. For some reason the conversation made him slightly queasy.

A new setting of a vaguely familiar muggle bar drifted in before being waved away quickly. Finally, the memory of last night appeared, a harried Pansy apparating onto the manors doorstep. His sudden appearance at the warehouse district. Flashing of curses and pain in his stomach, a quick port home. Then blackness.

He returned to his living room, a ghost of pain triggering in his abdomen. He ignored it, his eyes focused on the way Potter smirked so confidently at the redhead.

"Well?"

"Sorry to bother you...Mr. Malfoy." Weasley grumbled out the honorific like it was sand in his mouth. It pleased Draco dearly. "You are of course free to go."

"What?!" Harry all but shouted.

"I should say so." Draco responded, forcing himself to rise. His living room was now covered in soot, heavy boot prints tracked into his study and hall. "You have made a mess of my flat."

"Consider it your last household inspection." Weasley had the decency to look mildly embarrassed. "Keep your nose clean and we shouldn't have any issues."

Draco considered throwing a fit for the fun of it but ultimately accepted the peace offering with a nod. He was planning on keeping his silence anyway.

"You cannot be serious." Potter gawked at his friend before turning on Draco with a new fevor. "What did you do? How did you hide-"

"We're heading out!" Weasley called to the aurors who came slinking into the living room eyeing him with suspicion. Potter was still hissing to his friend as the redhead threw an exasperated look over his shoulder, almost as if he expected Draco to sympathize with him. Odd. They disappeared in a flash of green the aurors piling in behind them, leaving his living room a mess and his brain even more fuzzy than before.

He had barely managed to shower and suck down an unfamiliar but fast acting pain potion (he had to find out where Pinky had gotten it) when he heard his floo sound again. Not wanting to be arrested naked he charmed all of his clothes onto himself quickly. He caught a quick glance of a dark bruise on his collarbone, clearly it had been a busy night. Maybe it was the work of that raven haired witch, he wished he remembered her name. Or number. Or really anything about her.

"What in Merlin's name happened here?" He heard the familiar growl of a Zabini rampage beginning as he sauntered out of the bedroom. His two friends were standing in the living room taking in the carnage.

"Morning gentleman." He greeted as he drifted to the kitchen starting a simple breakfast of toast. They shrugged and joined him, watching him with measured looks. "Had a visit from the Minister this morning."

He swallowed his current bite, mildly wondering why he was so calm about all this. He must be exhausted from the fight last night.

"Shite." Blaise scowl deepened and Theo shuffled anxiously. "What did he want?"

He began pouring his coffee. There was a ghost of amusement as he stared at the black liquid, someone's grimace flashing across his mind. "The man thought I had his girlfriend tucked away in a broom closet somewhere again."

"Hermione?" Theo questioned cautiously. Draco raised his brow at the familiarity in his tone. Had the two of them… The thought sent an unfamiliar feeling of disgust and rage shooting across his mind. He was all out of sorts today.

"What did you say?" Blaise asked, still tense. The tone focused his thought back to the present. He really needed to go back to bed.

"The truth of course." He supplied easily. "That I hadn't seen the muggleborn since school. They rooted around my mind to confirm it after making some concessions. By the way you owe me, I have gotten us off on that little spectacle you caused last night."

"Yeah thanks." Blaise muttered distractedly. "So they didn't find anything… about her?"

"No." Draco scoffed his headache worsening as the conversation went on. "What was there to find? Just that bit about finding out if that damn potions mistress was her. Hardly anything suspicious there."

Blaise looked at Theo, his cool gaze speaking of something Draco couldn't catch. Theo simply shrugged, turning back to Draco. The action tickled something in his emotions that he didn't like.

"What?" His tone lowered a bit, the annoyance at being left out of the loop stoking his temper.

"Nothing mate." Blaise responded. "I'll work on running the press. This is going to be-"

"All below the table." He muttered, conceding the fight in the face of a now stabbing migraine. "Apparently Potter lost it. He was ranting about crows and me dying. I think Weasley is taking him to Saint Mungo's now."

"Well… that's… good." Blaise shook his head at Theo, a motion that Draco did not miss. "In any event I have a ton of paperwork for you to sign."

His confusion faded as Blaise produced a stack of paperwork, slipping back into his usual roll. There was so much, some back dated as far as two weeks. That's right, he had been on vacation too. That was why Pinky was gone. Why he had chosen to spend it dozing away at the manor alone he would never know but at least it was one mystery solved.

"Fine. But then I'm taking the rest of the day off. My head is killing me."

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And so Draco floated for the next couple of days. He returned to work, surprised to find his usual hands on approach mostly automated at this point, leaving him an excessive amount of time to brew and putter about his home. Even with the carnage cleaned up something about the interrogation stuck in his mind, like an invisible wisp of hair, tickling the back of his neck.

There were times when it was worse. Like when he caught sight of a garish maroon blanket tossed over his office chair. Or when Pinky made some sort of cinnamon dessert crepe. It was the feeling that he was missing something, but he just couldn't remember what.

He was wandering through the kitchen, partially looking for something to do and partially to pace when he caught sight of the china cabinet. His mind was thick with the memories of the past year, flickering across his brain as he turned them over like an old skipping stone, trying to figure out why they felt wrong. He was musing over Christmas when he caught sight of his grandmother's tea set.

Very rarely used, the delicate China cups were rimmed in gold, hand painted black onyx was brushed with golden ferns and flowers. Inside a perfect white surface where yellow and black roses were revealed as the liquid sank lower. A cup was missing. Odd, he wasn't much for tea these days. For some reason the image of an ugly clay teapot shattering on the floor flickered through his mind. An angry pulse of pain bloomed at the base of his neck.

" _I ruin damn near everything don't I?"_

He grimaced at the disembodied voice, closing his eyes as he tried to force the memory anyway.

" _Reparo."_

" _Thanks"_

" _Come sit."_ His own voice sounded soft and concerned. Usually a tone he only reserved for his mother but the voice didn't sound like her. Her. It was a woman. And she was upset. He couldn't remember why.

" _Don't worry, we can tell Potter you went back to Spain."_ Spain? What did he do in Spain? His mind lanced with a sharp stab, warning him away but he ignored it. Something much bigger than pain was tickling at his consciousness. He was missing something... something important.

" _How delicate do you think I am?"_

" _Why do you constantly think I am going to abandon you?"_ Fear spiked in his throat, the pain drifting down his spine as he pushed on, trying to follow the broken memory. Obliviation… That was the only possible solution. Who had gotten close enough to get past his walls? Who had been in his head and more importantly what did they take? If he let go now he may never find the thread again.

" _I didn't mean to yell at you."_ The soft feminine voice echoed in his mind, lapping up against the 'something' he was missing. A cliff in a storm, seen only by the waves breaking. He concentrated harder, desperate not to let it fade away.

" _Do you want to talk about it?"_

" _Want me to sit here until you decide?"_ His own voice carried softly, filled with what he recognized as unrepentant kindness and love. The scent of cinnamon intertwined in plush softness under his hand. It took him a moment to realize it wasn't hair at all but the rug he was laying on. When had he fallen? He ignored the question, trying to concentrate on blurry, half seen images. He was desperate to get someone to talk to him, to open up. He cared, deeply. _For who?_

_You're very kind when you are drunk._

_I'm not drunk, Granger._

The fragile glass draped over his memories shattered in a rain of pain and fear. They flooded back to him like water rushing to drought ravaged ground until he was surrounded by nothing but memories of her. **Hermione.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World Building with Om
> 
> Oblivation
> 
> Oblivation is a imperfect spell that relies on a cool and collected caster as well as an unwitting victim. That larger the set of memories the harder it is to permanently block them. It is also very dangerous to push against forgotten memories and can result in a fractured mind if forced.


	51. A Fitting End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: Bonus chapter? You are welcome. Story ends Saturday. Grab your popcorn. I am doing a quick QA at the bottom since world building is mostly done. Ask your questions for tomorrow as well. I appreciate you all for walking this journey with me and I am happy to have this no longer rattling around in my head.

She had a few days head start on him. It was nothing. He could easily catch up with his resources. That fucking bitch! How _dare_ she? He trusted her and she ripped through his memories like fucking tissue paper. He was going to _murder_ her! After he screamed at her for hours. Maybe before too.

He finally collected himself, rising in a rage. He all but tore the door off his office as it slammed against the wall. He grabbed the nearby pot of floo powder throwing the whole thing in. How could she do that, just erase herself from his mind? Who was she to make that call? And why in the fuck didn't Blaise or Theo say anything? They were next on his list.

"Rowana's cell!" He shouted clearly. Nothing happened. He tried again in a more controlled manner. Still nothing. She cut off the floo connection. Even more incensed by the action he all but flew out of his front door apparating away with a thunderous crack into the alleyway below the loft. He stomped over to the wall, ready to shoulder the door open when it did not appear. He placed his hand on the wall, searching for a disillusioned knob. He semi-patiently tried a variety of revealing and unlocking spells in quick succession. Deciding she deserved the damage he elected to stand back and blew the brick away with a quick reductor curse, revealing a rickety looking staircase.

His first step up sent his foot shooting through the rotten wood causing him to stumble before he caught himself. With a hiss of pain at his ankle he cast a reinforcing charm, just enough to allow him to get upstairs before it faded away. The hidden panel at the top had turned to a nondescript door and he pushed through it anyway hearing the hinges creak against the frame.

"GRANGER!" His anger halted as he gazed around an empty room. The abandoned loft was nothing but dry rotted wood completely devoid of life. The floo off to the right was crumbling in on itself as if it hadn't seen care in 100 years. He stalked over to the bathroom, pulling on his hidden panel and ripping it from the wall with a dry snap. Nothing lay behind it other than now scarred plaster. Fear finally caught up with him as a cold draft blew through the room bitterly in spite of the spring weather. Her library was empty, the loft collapsed in on itself. The windows hung with rotted gray drapes, one had a crack in it.

 _Gone._ The thought occurred to him instantly. She was gone. She and everything she owned. A flash of silver caught his eye, glittering in the afternoon sunlight. He all but dove over to the floo, the glimmer hidden in an abandoned rag on the mantle. His heart sank as he pulled out a childish charm bracelet, it's half of a heart catching the light as it turned.

The ghost of her magic filled the air, warm and familiar. He spun unsure if he was going to kiss her senseless or scream at her for scaring him. The result was neither as the chain hit the floor with a light tinkle. The only thing remaining in the workshop he had spent so much time in was sitting right where it always had been inviting him in. He rose numbly and wandered over to it, running his fingers along the raised texture of the fabric. By the time he collapsed onto his couch he had never felt so empty.

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The floo connection was dead. There was no trace of it ever having been there in the first place. Even if he could convince any of her contacts to talk to him he had no way to get a hold of them. He caught Longbottom the next day visiting his mother, only to come up empty other than a questioning glance as he disapparated. The only real additional effort he could manage to rile up was an inquiring owl to Charlie Weasley, poorly disguised subtext baring the brunt of his conscience. The reply was as useless as expected.

_I am sorry Mr. Malfoy. We haven't spotted that breed in the area for months. Best of luck in your search._

At least it was something. After a few days of half-hearted searching he returned home and didn't move from his couch. He would stop searching, he had promised after all. Even if she didn't keep her own. Blaise somehow knew. He went back to his flat days later to a pile of scrolls left on his back patio. A majority from Blaise and Theo in increasing desperate inquiries on his health. A few from Pansy demanding to meet. He didn't bother more than skimming. The most recent one arrived just as he was about to apparate back.

_She's gone isn't she? Sorry mate. I guess it's a bad time… but here._

Attached was a medium sized jewelry box he couldn't stand to open. It's black velvet lid was dusty and faded, every bit as old as the gift within. Not that it would have mattered anyway, she wasn't the sort of witch you could buy with presents, even the heartfelt kind.

And so Draco Malfoy's existence became pathetic. His days seemed to pass in a blur, night and day cycling together into a gray haze broken up by random bouts of sleep. He would head back to his flat every few days to clean himself, not that he really saw the point of it. While there he would sign whatever stack of forms Blaise had left and briefly check over his mail, just in case she sent anything. She never did. He fought down the urge to go find her, to raze the earth to rubble until she crawled out of whatever hole he had run off to. It was only the memory of her trembling against his chest the first time she saw Potter that kept him from leaving. He didn't ever want her to fear him like that. So he would obsess over her silently, floating in a world halfway between living and dead. At some point it would have to stop hurting. Right?

After what had been by his best guess a week and a half, the door to the stairs creaked open slowly. He may have dismissed it as the wind if it weren't for the quiet swear that followed. He couldn't even muster up the humor to smile at how terrible of a sneak Potter was.

"I knew it." He hissed as he strode into the room, his wand trained on Draco. Draco himself had curled into the window sill, perfectly miserable in the now empty archway. London had finally been greeted by some sun and the people swarmed the streets like ants to a sugar cube. "Where is she?"

From the lack of additional footsteps it sounded like he was alone. Draco was vaguely aware that a pissed off Potter with no leash was probably a deadly one but was all but resigned to death at this point. It seemed like a decent way to break up the monotony of life in any event.

"Tell me. I have no patience left for you." A blunted wand tip jabbed against his throat. With a great amount of effort he lolled his head to the side. Potter's eyes reflected some mix of anger and disgust. He was only briefly aware that he must look monstrous by this point.

"If I knew do you think I'd be here?" His own voice was weak and scratchy.

"I will make you show me."

"Go ahead then, Minister." He responded tiredly, bracing himself for the torture.

" _Legilimens._ " He flinched as Potter threw himself at his memories. Draco's own walls had been peeled down ages ago, barring his traitorous memories to roam free. When he felt Potter attack he simply stepped aside, revealing the ruin of his mind.

He saw Potter eviscerate them, ravenous for information. The meeting in Delhi, the thunderstorm fiasco, the African sickness. He was still tearing through them when he came across the Sunday Draco had carelessly blasted into her home, firing a curse that, in hindsight, could have killed her. Potter seethed behind his wand, the hatred sending rolling waves of anxiety through Draco's own consciousness.

He moved on, bulldozing through treasured moments with a cruel and exacting precision. The next painful stab was at Christmas. He skidded to a halt long enough for this one to replay, the words hitting home twice.

" _Why don't you talk to Potter anymore?"_

" _How do you know we don't talk anymore?"_

_"Ran into him at the ministry a couple month's back. Man is terrible at interrogation."_

" _He didn't-"_

" _Nothing official."_

" _Thank you."_ While he could not visualize the glare from the other wizard Draco certainly could feel it. Regardless the memory played on.

" _You know how you're not okay and I'm not okay? Harry, Harry is okay. He's got a wife and a career and a cute little dog named Lolo… We weren't the same anymore… So we just… drifted… I always intended to go back... I just..."_

He let the other wizards fury wash over him until it settled to a cold realization. The next set of images was flickered through quickly. Christmas. Lazy afternoon's brewing. Lying in a field at Neville and Luna's. He flinched when Potter examined the memory of that time he had called her a mudblood, but didn't really mean it. The rage he felt, which she returned with kindness and patience. Draco's own shame overwhelmed any immediate reaction. Potter kept his judgments to himself and kept moving. Draco heart ached as the night with the fae played out, the light jokes, the objectively hilarious situation she had gotten them into. He flickered through her part in Blaise's story choosing instead to settle on a familiar memory at the Menagerie. Finally he reached the most recent memories of Germany. When he settled on the day of that second morning, Draco actually stirred. A small part of him wanted to tear the wizard form his mind, not letting him see what small pieces Draco had left. However, Harry was still too deep, all but sliding around his poorly constructed barrier with ease. He forced Draco to relive every moment, every night settled, every careful delicate touch. He had to close his eyes trying to block out his part of the viewing. It was no use, he saw the very moment she had realized he loved her, laying in the grass, soaked to the bone. Her eyes tear stained and contemplative before they burst with a soft emotion, welling into the irises like a billowing sheet of silk.

With his last vestige of power Draco blocked off the conversation they had in his kitchen, it felt like such a small thing to do for her. He dragged it down next to him, all but hiding it behind his back. None the wiser Harry plowed onwards, pulling violently away from the memory with the fireflies and the resulting night.

" _Shite. You love her don't you?"_

" _Of course I do! Now tell me how fix it?"_

Draco felt only the slightest bit of shame as Harry audibly scoffed, but it was half-hearted. Finally the picture show came to an end as he landed on the memory of their last real conversation.

" _Promise me you won't leave me behind. I will not force myself upon you like Potter has but you have to promise not to just disappear again."_ His own voice sounded so sure, as if the statement had ever held any weight, like he ever had the right to demand it. He was a fool. Her eyes were so trusting, in that moment she had not lied. They were soft and forgiving, touched by the sentiment. His heart ached at what might have been. He was _such_ a fool.

" _I promise."_

Harry pulled away with a gasp, grasping his head even though Draco hadn't put up a fight. For his part Draco just sat on the sill staring at the boy come Minster, fighting to keep his composure. When he finally looked up Harry's face was stony.

"She lied." He delivered, devoid of emotion. Draco nodded slowly. Pity flashed behind emerald eyes. Something she would have never stood for. She hated pity.

Without another word, Potter apparated away and Draco continued to stare out onto the streets of London.

000000000000000000000

As it turned out, it didn't stop hurting. The little rook found him in her old workshop some time later, the days having slipped from the cautious optimism of spring to the impending heat of summer. It had landed so lightly in the rafters he barely noticed it. He wasn't sure the thing had a message with how long it remained silent. He stared at the feathery form as her halting voice began before freezing and starting again. Finally a weak sound, so unlike the Hermione he knew whispered into the empty room.

_"_ _Pray for me won't you."_

The bird faded quickly, leaving just the impression of a weak sunbeam before falling away into nothingness. It suited her that even in her worst hour Hermione couldn't just send anyone a message, it had to be a riddle. He apparated home without a word and grabbed a handful of floo powder from the slowly emptying jar on the mantle. He would need to refill it soon he would need to repair his wards at some point as well. He had put off so much for so long, he wasn't really sure he could be qualified as a person anymore. He ran his hand through his hair. She had never gotten the chance to cut it and it fell past his shoulders now. He considered leaving it be on the principal on the matter.

A flash of green landed him in Zurich just long enough for him to step out of the ministries floo before apparating northward. He appeared in a familiar clearing, glancing at the fallen stones. He set off silently for the ruins of the church, still standing stalwartly among the waving green of the stone wall that edged along the road seemed so broken down and crumbled now. The dirt path underneath his shoes, too hard.

Even as he glanced at the church doors flung open as he neared them he felt no rush of relief. No great joy or peace. He marched forward angling his body into the archway and forcing himself to look up.

It was so reminiscent of the last time he found her here. One of the stained glass shutters had blown out leaving the mosaic of colors void and empty. Everything seemed so much paler without it. She seemed thinner too, her hair less like a wild and untamed thicket and more like a knot of straw. She was looking straight forward this time, jumping when she heard him arrive. He stared at the scene before him wondering what life he was bound for if he stepped in. He could never be with her even if he could convince her to return. She would hate it, and she would resent him for it. He could run with her he supposed. He could see it now, learning to cook in a far off country, living well below his means but marveling in the fact they were together. She would teach him new things happily, even while calling him a posh may even start a family full of lineage shattering half-bloods that he would lord over his father's grave for the rest of his life. They would grow old tied together in some far off world where he wasn't Draco Malfoy, she wasn't Hermione Granger, there was no war and they were nothing but two wizards madly and hopelessly in love.

He took the small velvet box out of his pocket and placed it on the nearby sill. With a shaky hand he unlatched her watch from his wrist and placed it next to it's twin. With one last look he took her in, not a princess or a damsel. Just a girl who fought a war that hadn't really ended yet. It took every bit of him to turn around and apparate away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions with Om
> 
> How did Draco know where to go?
> 
> A: Of course the first thing Hermione did was look up questions to where they had been. It was discovered to be a mining town that broke apart in the mid 1800s. The church symbolizes the true kick start to change within their relationship and Hermione would hold on to that imagery.
> 
> Does Ron know what is going on?
> 
> A: Nope. He has taken what Draco has said at face value since their meet up. (Mostly due to the ridiculous nature of it.) Reading his mind only confirmed it.
> 
> Harry is the villain?
> 
> A:Negative. I have addressed this since the very first Harry meeting. He is in no way evil or dangerous. He just had a friend close in on themselves and disappear completely from the world. I would be worried, wouldn't you?
> 
> Sequal? Future stories? Rewrites?
> 
> A: No sequel. Maybe an epilogue to deal with some loose ends eventually. It is half written in my drafts, I just don't really feel the motivation to finish since this story is about Hermione and Draco and it is done. I may go back and rewrite the first few chapters. They feel a bit weak and stats show people bailing at chapter 3-4 when it doesn't get good until chapter 6ish. No future stories for now, I am writing a shitty fantasy romance novel I hope to self publish but if that fails (likely) I will be back with my ideas.
> 
> I want to talk about it!
> 
> A: Please. Please. PLEASE message or review with your long winded thoughts and rants. There are some majorly subtle ideas and some beautiful lines I gave way too much attention to that I would loveee to talk about but NOONE NOTICED! Message me and we can go back and forth for hours obsessing about your favorite line. (What is your favorite line?) I only wish that ao3 had a IM chat. I will totally duke it out in the comment section with you though!
> 
> See ya'll tomorrow!


	52. Go with Grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BRUH! Take a moment to breathe. It's okay. Get some tissues and come back.
> 
> Okay you back? Cool. Thank you all so much for finishing. It was a wild ride and I hope more people get a chance to read this and are as effected by it as you all were, even you sneaky lurkers out there!
> 
> For most of you this will be the last time my disembodied voice every speaks to you. I hope you came away from this story with something. Be it a lesson, a good time, or a new idea. I hope you all find whatever you are looking for in life and hold on tightly when you find it. Stay safe, tread lightly, love blindly, and let people be happy.
> 
> Regards, Omnenomnom

She floo'd into the burrow at dinner time before she lost her nerve. After months of wandering the globe she found herself longing for home for the first time in years. Nothing brought her joy anymore. The world was empty and she was as well. It was time.

Unsurprisingly, Molly had gathered her brood as she did every Sunday and she could hear the laughter from where she stood. Sundays. For some reason the day followed her around like a plague. She almost turned around, would have actually, if not for the silent shadow of her oldest friend on the wall, watching her placidly.

"Are you ready now?" He asked his voice calm and even. A loud bang was heard in the background followed by Molly's unmistakable shouting and a round of laughter. It sounded young. There were children in the Burrow again. The thought just reminded her of everything she had missed.

"No." She responded, taking in her old friend. He looked older, so much older than he should. Streaks of gray peppered his black hair like veins of granite. Thin wrinkles shot out in a line of spider webs from his eyes and brown, stress carving them deep into his skin. The years had not been kind to him, she had not been kind to him.

"We can wait." He responded, his green eyes tracking her every movement. "Or you can turn back around and try again later."

"There is no later." She breathed, hating the way he flinched. He was holding himself back, resisting the urge to shout, once again for her sake. Even after all this time he was so certain she would break. Maybe she would. Maybe she needed to.

"I'm so sorry." The words tumbled out of her, hanging in the air with the sounds of home. Part of her screamed to run straight into that kitchen and surround herself with love and happiness. Another part whispered maliciously that they never really wanted her there in the first place.

"Me too. I… I didn't know you felt that way." Harry sighed, shaking his head lightly. His wild spurts of hair bouncing around his face. "I didn't mean to make you feel like you needed to run. I just ...I just wanted to know you were okay."

"You were worried." She responded, wrapping her arms around herself. Everything was stilted and awkward now. Was this what it would always be? It didn't seem worth returning to.

"I was. You just… left like that. I-I can't do this again." He pushed off the walk and walked over to her. His shoulders were tense and his movements stiff. He was barely a foot away from her when he stopped, his eyes regarding her neutrally. "Are you staying or going? "

"I-" Hermione glanced towards the fireplace. If she left now Harry probably wouldn't say anything. She could continue her life elsewhere, making new friends and maybe even settling down somewhere now that he seemed truly done looking for her. Perhaps she would be able to find her heart again in someone else, someone who didn't mind that she was so damaged. She shivered as she tried to ignore the ache in her chest that never really went away.

"What if they don't want me here?" She questioned glancing down at the familiar worn carpet, soot stained from years of Weasley floo travel. "I'm still not… Better."

"Oh Hermione…" She glanced up, only to meet a level of warmth in Harry's eyes that rivaled the sun. A light sob escaped her as he gathered her into a bone crushing hug. She heard the footsteps filing down the hall, the usual sounds of dinner transformed into a confused murmur. She couldn't look at the door, choosing instead to bury her face in her best friend's chest, relying on him to help her through it.

"I'm sorry." She cried, not the least bit bothered as she dampened what had to have been one of his nicest shirts. She jumped when she felt the addition of one palm on her back, then another. A variety of arms and red hair wrapping around her. It only made her sob harder. "I am so sorry I am like this. I'm sorry I can't just be happy."

"You are perfect exactly as you are, Hermione. Welcome home."

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Hermione shivered under the warm glow of the stage lights alone. Harry had set everything up. For someone who didn't like the spotlight he was sure good at fanfare. Must be a side effect of becoming Minister. Behind the curtain he stood on a podium addressing the pressed with muted flowery words about togetherness and forgiveness. She could barely breathe and had resulted in using a sticking charm on her shoes to keep from bolting. There was a world of people out there. People who had thought her dead. People who wanted to know where she'd been and what she had done.

"I can't do this." she whispered to no one in particular.

"Hermione Granger can do anything. Haven't you heard?" An achingly familiar voice drawled from the shadows. "She can solve any problem, sweep her exams, and keep the savior of the world alive, all with one leg tied behind her back."

"Draco!" She tried to keep the unadulterated joy out of her voice as she spun to greet him. He was hiding in the roping, so that even when the curtain rose he would be far out of sight. His lean form was leaning on a nearby pole looking at her coldly.

"Granger." She tried not to deflate at the formality, she failed.

"I...I'm glad you could make it." She ventured diplomatically. Not that she expected it, her owl had come back with his invitation still tied to it's legs. She had stopped reading the Prophet before she even got back, unable to handle glimpses of him in the society pages. He looked thin, and his eyes had the darkest rings she had ever seen. His pale skin was pasty and even his hair was rumpled in that way that was more crazed than endearing. Even as much of his beauty had faded away his eyes still held the cold elegance in their moon touched gray.

"Brought to heel like a stray dog then Granger?" He said blandly like it wasn't the lash he intended. It landed with brutal accuracy. His eyes sharpened to gunmetal as he watched her, glistening with a sheen of malice. He wanted it to hurt her and in spite of it all that surprised her. She hadn't seen him like this in years.

"Have you always been this cruel?" She questioned humorlessly as she stared at the bright red curtain in front of her. Not blood red thank god, just the kind of red they used to have in theaters. Like at the show she went to when she was young. The one with all the cats. Her mum must have been setting up for a tag team on her dad because after that show she was dying for a cat. It took a few years before they could convince him to accept Crooks.

"You are hardly one to speak of cruelty." He scoffed and she didn't bother to cover her flinch. She dared a glimpse of his eyes hoping for forgiveness or love. They flared with his familiar fire of rage and she quickly redirected her gaze to the floor. "I am so incredibly angry with you right now."

She said nothing, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She had hoped to see him here when she sent that owl. Maybe it was foolish and desperate but… whatever it was it was a mistake.

"This isn't fair. I gave you the church. You elected to pass on that." If he wanted to play that way she could be just as hardhearted, or at least she could pretend to be. "I am not here for your emotional development."

"Fair? Was it fair for you to make me love you?" In that perfectly controlled demeanor he was so known for, his voice didn't even raise slightly. "Was it fair for you to leave like that? You just disappeared for weeks without telling me, making me think you would never come back. Do you have any idea how I felt?" He paused, a twitch in his jaw as his voice fell softly, just an octave barely there. But she noticed. And some how that stung worse than the barbs. "Do you even know what you did to me?"

"So you're doing this to hurt me?" She cried out not caring who heard. She had always thought that heartbreak should end with a bang. Something that hurt this much should never be silent.

"I'm doing this because I would have run away with you if you had just asked." He hissed, his grip on his emotions slipping. "If I went up to you in that blasted church you would have let me and we would have never come back. This is your world Granger, you needed to come back to it. Where's the bloody Gryffindor bravery in running away?"

"It's what I have always done." She replied simply, willing the knot in her throat to be swallowed.

"It is vile." He growled. "Despicable and cruel."

"It is." She didn't bother apologizing, what really was the point. Whatever was between them had snapped as cleanly as any broken bone and was just about as painful as well. She pushed down the tears but couldn't help the small sniffle that broke through. God she was pathetic. She deserved every bit of it yet still felt the need to cry.

"Granger." His voice was softer. That fact hurt her more than anything. "Self-pity is a bad look."

She couldn't help the awkward laugh that bubbled up from her throat. She threw her hands quickly over her mouth risking a glance at him only to see him smirking while slowly shaking his head.

"Merlin... I told you that you would be the death of me." His eyes met hers, an agonizing misery breaking past the surface. "I just didn't think it would hurt so much."

"Me either." She whispered before a crackling on the other side of the curtain drew her attention, once again flinging her into her fears. She loathed to go, it felt too nice to return to normality, even if it was just for this last time. She would never see him again, not like this. They may run into each other at the ministry on occasion. Or perhaps at a restaurant where she would nod towards him and he would tip his glass before turning back to whatever beautiful witch he ended up marrying and starting a family with. God was it too much to ask for friendship? It probably was. They were too far gone.

"I can see those gears spinning in your head. If you don't stop that tinderbox you call hair is going to catch." He shot lazily, his posture relaxing.

"You are such an ass." She tried to pin him with a glare but it dissolved into a soft smile when she met his gaze, still open. Still accepting. She wanted nothing more than to run to him, throw herself into his arms and disappear to some place where no one knew their names.

"What if they hate me? What if they still expect the world of me? I can't give it. I only have a little bit left and… and I want it for you. I don't care if it's selfish. I want to st-" A strangled gasp escaped her throat and he was by her side in an instant. She didn't hear an apparition though. Maybe some sort of switching spell? But those were ridiculously dangerous on living creatures. Maybe-

"You're doing it again." He breathed softly into her ear as he softly pet the back of her hair. Somehow she wound up pressed against his chest. The whole world was shaking. It took a moment to realize it was just her.

"It doesn't need to be goodbye." She struggled to breath between the words. Her body melted against his, reaching out for its familiarity.

"Now who's being dramatic." He quipped tiredly as he haltingly rubbed her back. "You couldn't let me go with grace, could you?"

"Sorry." She mumbled. Not that she really meant it. "I've never been particularly elegant."

"Not what I meant." He sighed into her hair, his fingers lightly digging into the skin near her spine. For a moment, hidden away backstage she let herself be weak, desperate even. She would spend the rest of her life wondering if she didn't ask.

"Really... You could just... We could... Maybe just… Grab a coffee every few weeks at first… people will-"

"Talk. And never stop talking. And take pictures and shout at you and send you hate mail. Granger you are shock frozen at the idea of this curtain lifting. You will likely hide out for at least a month after. I was in the papers three times last weekend. Twice for going to dinner with Blaise and Theo and once because some poor witch had this misfortune to walk out of a hotel at the same time I did. You can't handle that kind of spotlight."

"I'm Hermione Granger. I can do anything." She murmured curled against his chest. Maybe if she stayed right there he wouldn't leave. "You don't need to do this…"

"And you are in such a position to stop me." He scoffed, looking for all the world like the powerful, if not tired, wizard he was. His hand pulled her chin up to meet his eyes, reflecting the love she had never told him about and that she now no longer deserved. "I told you I am terrible at goodbyes."

There were a few moments of silence as he held her.

"They would be proud of you." He all but whispered. She hadn't felt the tears start until they blurred out her vision, dropping her head to his chest to hide them. "I know they would be. They would be sitting in the crowd in whatever muggle getup passed for respectable and loudly share with everyone next to them 'That's my girl. That's my little swot."

"They never called me swot you prat." She hissed in a vain attempt to cover her tears. "That was only you."

"Then I guess you have something to remember me fondly by." He gave her a quick squeeze and pulled away. She could have sworn she felt the ghost of his lips brush against her cheek. "You can move on. It's okay. We can pretend we never met. But, if you need me, I am only an owl away. Anything you need, I can make it happen. Bollocks to what people think, you call, I will come."

"So… dramatic…" She managed as her tears broke into real sobs.

"I'd burn the world for you Hermione." It was a silly sentiment but felt honest nonetheless.

"I don't want the world burning you knob!" She spat resisting the urge to dive after him. "I just want lazy Sundays laying on the couch with you and Crooks while musing about the Holly berry crop this year like a proper old boring married couple."

"I'd drive you insane complaining about the cat hair." He chuckled lightly. "And your hair for that matter."

"And I'd drive you to tears with my 'sloppy' ingredient preparation." She hiccuped slightly, trying to get a hold of herself.

"Don't cry, Hermione." He murmured for the very first time. It struck her more than it should. "Really it's easier this way. I don't belong up there with you all. Not really."

"You sound like a cheesy break up movie." She hated that her voice cracked and that he didn't even have the decency to meet her eyes when he lied to her.

"I couldn't say otherwise…

"And finally, returning back to the UK from a very important mission…" The sonorus charm finally breached the curtains as they drifted open the slightest bit. Harry's warm voice sounded full of excitement and pleasure.

"I guess it's time for you to go." He cast a quiet scourgify to clean up her face. The cool water of the magic was heartrendingly gentle. And she was never going to feel it ever again. It was enough to make her eyes start to water all over. "See you, Granger. Thanks for… Everything I guess."

He stepped back as the curtain rose. His eyes met hers one last time and flashed with the deep pain of letting someone go. She couldn't do that to him. They had both had enough loss for their lifetimes. She knew, just a moment later, there was no going back. Let them think her selfish and insane and sentimental. She was all of those things and so was he. They were human.

Releasing her sticking charm she grabbed his wrist and pulled him to her, planting her lips against his just as the curtains parted. There may be no going back but there was no going forward for her without him anyway. By the time he held her in earnest, she couldn't hear the crowd over the blood rushing through her brain.

_El Finale_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions with Om
> 
> Why did she send the patronus?  
> She did not know his oblivation would fair. She sent it to him as last ditch effort to abate her own misery. If he didn't remember or didn't come she could hold off hope that she would one day come back for him once things had calmed down. But he came and rejected her, ending things with a hard finality. 
> 
> Draco's mum?  
> Epilogue if it ever gets published. I started this story with intentions for a whole scene about that interaction but as it morphed into a story purely about Draco and Hermione finding a place to fit it in didn't work. The fic ends here because stories should ALWAYS end at the... well end. I could write more about the reintroduction to society, their future life and children and yada yada yada. But I was not trying to tell the story of Hermione's life.
> 
> So it was all Hermione's fault?
> 
> In the simplest terms yes. War is terrible. Her friends could have noticed and done more. The Weasley family could have pushed her to get help but ultimately everyone's mental health is there own responsibility to deal with. Hermione chose the wrong way for her own. The Weasley family (and Harry) had always loved her and had never thought of her as a burden in anyway. She just couldn't see that in her grief.
> 
> Why the amnesia?
> 
> This is totally a matte of preference but to be blunt about it... for good writing. Not for drama mind you, a nice fight would serve that function. But it was not the story I wanted to write. Draco had to have something that separated him from her giving her a head start so he couldn't feasibly find her. She panicked and made a choice figuring he would never actually remember. It makes sense that in her panic and with his skill she couldn't manage a through job of it but just needed long enough to disappear.
> 
> Why did Draco walk away?
> 
> She betrayed him. She lied. And ultimately, she would do it again. He knew that as long as he went with her she would always run away for as long as he enabled her. So he didn't let her.
> 
> Why didn't Draco bring her back?
> 
> Rant Alert: Firstly. I hate, hate, HATE when stories about mental health are magically fixed because a man waltzed into their lives and made it all better. Secondly, from a mental health perspective if she didn't make the call on her own she couldn't properly take accountability for her own actions. Even if he convinced her to come back of her own free will she still would have only done it because he pushed and wouldn't truly be better. Maybe she could be okay eventually but she could also just be resentful of it and let it destroy them. It was just one of those things she had to do on her own for her own personal growth.


	53. A Future Untold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is your epilouge! Enjoy

"They aren't coming." Harry muttered into his wine. He swirled the deep burgundy liquid without really knowing why. He was aware that he probably looked like a prat but the movement was keeping him from shooting out of his seat.

"Calm down mate. She's coming." Ron said his eyes flicking towards the door. He had changed, everyone had, it was the nature of things. Harry knew this. But it didn't change the fact he felt like a small part of him had been stuck in the past for years and was just now jumping ahead to the present leaving the rest of him behind.

"I liked you better as an immature, impatient git." Harry mused.

"Aurors who are impatient get killed within the first week." He chuckled warmly before sipping his ale. It was nearly gone. "That's why your arse is sitting in that fancy office instead out in the field with me."

"They are la-"

"Here." Ron's pint hit the table with an echoing finality. Harry saw the shift in his body almost immediately, muscles tensing and face frozen into a placid mask. Harry had never been good at hiding his emotions so he had learned to try to outmaneuver them.

Harry turned towards the door, the clamor from outside slipping in the Hog's Head in a wave of light and sound. Hermione fell in first, stumbling for footing as reporters took pictures and shouted questions after her. Some seemed good natured, other's posed situations that he didn't want to ever think about. Harry had already risen to his feet intending to dash over to where she was leaning against the table breathing in deep sucking breaths.

A mass of dark navy robes and pale skin swept in after her. Something scathing about vultures was shouted at the reporters, harsh enough to make them wince before he slammed the door. He forced down the initial reaction to hex the wizard immediately when he reached for Hermione, pulling her close to his chest and murmuring something into her hair. Hermione relaxed and pulled away just enough for Harry to see the color return to her face.

"Problem?" Malfoy's voice broke the stark silence of the pub with that aristocratic arched tone that must be genetic. Harry almost blew up at him then, until he noticed the people around him react. The staring patrons looked sheepishly down at their drinks. The door to the pub opened, a set of reporters pushing their way partially inside. As Malfoy turned with a sneer the door slammed shut, a locking spell clicking into place. Malfoy spun to focus on Ron sliding his wand back up his sleeve. He paused for a moment, as if the very words pained him. "Good show Weasley."

"Aberforth hates noise. Figured he wouldn't mind." Ron joined Harry in standing as Hermione took hesitant steps over to them. She glanced up, smiling weakly at them before casting a quick silencing spell around the booth but not sitting.

"Ron…. Harry." Her voice shook awkwardly, the distance between the three of them sent something crawling in his stomach. Harry hated that this was what they had become. But, if they did this right, if _he_ did this right, they could start again.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and pushed her forward with a rough shove forcing her to sit or fall on the table. Harry grated his teeth as he stared at the interaction. Even as Hermione silently mouthed 'thank you'.

"''Mione." Ron nodded towards her with a warm smile. He turned to Malfoy holding out his hand. "Draco."

As Malfoy took a step forward Ron's fist snapped up from his side, rocketing into Malfoy's cheek with a vicious thud. It wasn't quite as hard as Harry had seen the redhead hit but it certainly wasn't a love tap. Draco stumbled to one knee holding his cheek and glaring at Ron as he stepped out form the table. Hermione's eyes widened in panic as she made to move in front of Malfoy only to have the blond stop her with a raised hand.

"That was for lying to me, you utter bastard." Ron growled gruffly while shaking out his hand. After a moment he held it out to the wizard, a look of resigned relief settling into a tight smile. Draco sighed and took the hand, pulling himself to his feet before walking the few steps back to the table.

"There are more eloquent ways to discuss your grievances Weasley." Draco huffed as he shifted his jaw around, checking for breaks. "Not that I would expect you to know them growing up in that barn you call a house."

"There is nothing to stop me from punching you again, you know?" Ron replied as he settled into his seat and threw back the rest of his beer. Two more appeared on the table and he slid one over to Malfoy. "I'm a simple man; consider us even."

"Lovely." Malfoy growled but accepted the drink anyway. He took a sip that was still too white collar for the pub they had found themselves in. "So Potter. Are you going to hit me too? If so you might as well let Weasley take it so that I have a matched set."

Harry focused on Hermione, who continued to stare at the table, fidgeting every so often. After a moment of silence she looked up at Malfoy. She looked older, but not by much. Her hair was still a messy mass of curls but didn't have the gray Harry had developed. Her skin was sun kissed and dotted with more freckles than he remembered. But the real change was in the eyes. When she looked at Malfoy they seemed to wash in relief, drinking the prat in as he met her gaze. Her smile was gentle and quiet, nothing like the stiff forced ones he had come to know in the aftermath of the war. She looked… not quite happy. But she was getting there. He was also horridly disgusted to notice the way Malfoy's face softened, his hand settling in her lap as the tension left his shoulders. What on earth had happened to them while she was gone? It was what they were here to find out.

"I'm not going to hit you Malfoy." Harry finally responded sipping at the wine. "I have already seen you at your lowest and it was payment enough."

"That seems uncharacteristically generous." Malfoy narrowed his eyes, regarding him with suspicion. Harry's lips quirked upright.

"What can I say, I'm a giver." Harry intoned casually. "Incidentally, did you know that right before she graduated Hermione invented a way to take pictures of memories? She is quite clever."

"I am made aware everyday." Draco drawled, his eye twitching lightly. "Get to the point Potter."

"Of course." Harry pulled out the carefully printed photographs from under the table and held them in the air. "Hey Hermione." She looked up curiously. "Want to see what a pathetic sop your boytoy was while you were gone?"

Years of seeker reflexes were the only thing that got him away from the table before Malfoy dove over it swiping at the photos and swearing. He jumped back as the abandoned drinks sloshed over the table accompanied by a vicious sounding growl. Draco swiped again as Harry jumped out of reach behind his chair, grinning wildly. They both froze as a stuttered giggle punctuated the air.

Harry glanced over to who Hermione sat, smiling quietly into her hand, still halfway hiding behind her hair. Her eyes met his with a soft joy he hadn't seen her wear in years, even before she had left.

"This is going to work, isn't it?" She questioned lightly flicking her eyes back and forth between him and Malfoy. Ron scoffed as he took a sip of his beer. "We've always been a bit barmy. I don't see much difference now."

"It will work, Granger." Harry jumped a bit at the affection in Malfoy's voice. It was down right unnerving to hear from the man in general, let alone directed at Hermione. When paired with the genuine smile Harry had to question if this wasn't all some sort of Purgatory after dying in the Battle of Hogwarts and he was just now figuring it out. Before he could dwell too long the blond turned to Harry and narrowed his eyes. He was already moving before the next words were out his mouth. "Because by the time I kill Potter there won't be a problem."

Harry took off with Malfoy in hot pursuit behind him, Hermione's loud laughter echoing around the bar. He dove under a table just as Aberforth levitated it cursing at him. Maybe she wasn't the same and maybe she did choose an ill tempered prat, but she was still Hermione under it all. Malfoy shouted in success as the photo was torn from his hand before it burst into flames. Harry smiled as the wizard boasted over him, criticizing his slipping seeker skills. Little did he know, Harry had multiple copies at home.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Are you ready?" Draco asked, his hand holding hers so tightly it was painful. The question may have been directed at her but she had a feeling he was asking for his own benefit.

"If you are." She replied evenly, counting his breaths as they stood just outside of a side door to Saint Mungos.

"We can come back another day... " Draco swallowed. "If you want."

Hermione knew he had been visiting his mother more frequently now that they were back in London. Narcissa had taken to the shorter more frequent appearances better than the weekly ones. Sometimes he would swing by on a lunch break, or on his way back after work. He still disappeared every Sunday for a few hours but rarely came home in a fit like he used to. She blushed to call it home. For all his wealth and complaining, when she set Rowana's Cell back up he appeared hours later with a shrunken wardrobe and a single enchanted bookshelf that was connected to his study and the manor's library. He didn't ask her to change anything, other than moving his couch closer to the windows so he could read with natural light. He left things mostly as they were, knowing that the change would be too much for her. He had always been considerate of her, it was more than past time she repaid the favor.

"Do you want to?"

"I... No." He murmured, scuffing his shoe against the patio. She waited in silence as he warred with himself.

"In we go then." Hermione tugged lightly at his arm as she stepped towards the doors. They threw themselves open, even though it was well before visiting hours. He fell into step next to her, guiding her through careful turns until they came across a thick wooden and iron door. Hermione knocked once and waited.

She swallowed her gasp of surprise as a towering centaur ducked into the hall, his roan flanks catching beams of sun from inside before the wood closed behind him. A long black and gray streaked braid hung over his shoulder and down to his waist. His deep black eyes looked gentle and patient as he observed them.

"I was wondering if you were going to arrive."

"Yes we… we were just late." Draco cleared his throat and straightened. "Hermione, this is Dr. Thanius. Thanius this is-"

"Ah Ms. Granger, may the stars shine on you."

"Pardon me." Hermione flipped through her mind trying to place the centaur. "Have we met?"

"Not in such a sense." Thanius responded. "I am originally from the Hogwarts centaur colony. They mentioned you were working with them on memory research a few seasons back. Tricky subject but I have used the resulting notes to help treat the patients in this ward."

"Oh!" Hermione flushed, equally embarrassed and delighted. "I am happy to have been of assistance."

"Indeed." He huffed, his back hoof stamping against the floor silently. They must have dampening sounds in the hall. "It is good for her to see someone else I think."

"That's what we were hoping." Hermione replied, wrapping her hand back around Draco's encouragingly. "If now is a good time…"

"As good as any other day." Thanius intoned, opening the door with a wave of his hand. Hermione stepped in, pulling a still nervous Draco behind her.

She entered a beautifully sunlit room. Gilt walls shimmering in the light streaming in from a large arched window. The gothic ceiling vaulted up to rich mahogany beams as thick as Hermione was around. Crushed velvet curtains in a rich emerald green drifted in the breeze from the open panes. A luxurious looking bed was perfectly made, the silver curtains half drawn.

And there she was. Sitting at an ostentatious gold trimmed vanity on delicate spindly legs, humming to herself while she attempted to run a brush through knotted hair. Hermione froze. Narcissa Malfoy looked nothing like the stiff, cold woman she had caught glimpses of during her school years. Her eyes were glassy and distant and her delicate lips pulled into a vacant smile. She didn't look capable of hurting anyone at all.

Hermione forced her body to relax, focusing on the shaking hand pressed against her lower back as Draco pulled her forward. _She didn't remember people,_ he had said. They had agreed that Hemione would be the one to address her, giving Draco time to slip into whatever persona he needed to fill.

"Lady Malfoy?" Hermione started, stepping into what she was sure was an awkward curtsy. She had elected to wear a long sleeved tea dress in spite of the warm weather to cover anything that may trigger her.

Narcissa turned toward her, her eyes confused as she tried to place where she had seen the young witch. She set down the brush, folding her hands in her lap and stared. Just as Draco made to step forward she spoke.

"And who is this, Draco?" Draco stiffened halfway through the motion. His eyes flicking between his mother and Hermione. She was mildly surprised that Narcissa chose today of all days to recognize her son but it couldn't be helped.

"Good morning Mother." He forced a smile on his face, stepping forward to kiss her hand. She raised a single incredulous eyebrow before pulling her son in for a hug. The way tension flowed away from his body made Hermione wonder exactly how often that happened.

"Pardon my son." Narcissa pulled away her eyes trained on Hermione as she took a step forward. Hermione swallowed slowly, forcing herself to remember that there was no danger. That the witch didn't even have a wand. Narcissa shot a disappointed look over her shoulder making Draco cringe like a scolded teenager and it was enough that she could breathe again. "He has never brought a girl home before and apparently has forgotten his manners." She paused, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "I know you."

"Mother-"

"You're one of the Greengrass girls!" She all but squealed. Clasping her hands in front of her. Draco breathed a deep sigh of relief and pleaded to Hermione with his eyes.

"Hello Mrs. Malfoy." Hermione stalled, smiling softly as she searched for the name of one of the pureblood Slytherin girls she rare interacted with. Finally she dug up the information, practically spitting it out. "I'm Miss Astoria Greengrass."

"Miss? Is that right?" She looked back at her son, eyes twinkling suspiciously. "Well Astoria. I don't know if you knew this but your mother and I were friends back at Hogwarts. I had always hoped you and Draco would be close as well."

"Yes well…" Draco cleaned his throat walking over to join Hermione. Narcissa's gaze trailing to where his hand landed on her back, her eyes narrowing.

"Do you have something to share, my beloved son?" He flinched and Hermione couldn't help but compare him to the naughty child from his stories, an unapproving mother pulling him to heel with just a glance.

"That depends on-"

"Is she pregnant?" Hermione coughed, covering her mouth rather ungracefully. Draco's eyes blew wide as he began to sputter.

"What? No! We just… she…"

"So then…" She responded, confirming something with a nod. "You proposed."

"I-"

"Yes." Hermione interrupted his denial, feeling his palm jump. Better the devil you know after all. "We were afraid you would not approve."

"I see…" Two wingback chairs appeared and Narcissa sat, motioning to Hermione with a graceful wave. Hermione sat as primly as possible, meeting the woman in the eye as she did so. Draco followed to rest against the arm, his hand curling around her shoulder. "Does he make you happy?"

"Yes." Hermione answered immediately trying not to fiddle with her skirt.

"And she-" Draco started to respond only to silence when his mother scowled at him.

"Of course she does. You would be happy with any woman who let you tinker in that potions lab all afternoon." Hermione couldn't help but giggle at the offended look on his face. Narcissa smiled turning back to her. Hermione nodded slowly, leaning her head into Draco's shoulder. Narcissa watched them for a moment, trying to piece together the missing parts of her mind.

"Well thank Merlin. There have not been enough women in this manor for ages and the house elf staff is dreadful." Narcissa said with a huff. "I expect to be the main force planning the wedding. You will have to discuss that with your mother."

"Happily." Hermione chirped, pushing past the topic. Narcissa summoned another chair for Draco as he joined in, filling her in on bits and pieces of his life, relishing the almost sanity of the moment. But just as soon as it had begun time was up and Narcissa was starting to lose her attention, forgetting things mid sentence.

"Well we should-" Draco started to stand, his face heavy with regret.

"Narcissa." Hermione interrupted standing swiftly. "You mentioned the house elves around here are dreadful. Would you like some help with your hair? I know some excellent detangling charms."

"I would love that." Narcissa's eyes sparked, a small smile creeping on her face. "It is so unruly today."

Hermione helped guide the woman back to her vanity, ignoring Draco as he mouthed questions at her. There may be no better time for this.

Narcissa settled onto the bench, humming a familiar tune as Hermione cast a detangling spell on the brush and started to work through the knots. The notes pitched high then low in an ethereal sort of tune. It took her a moment to place it as the song she hummed to get to Luna and Neville's house.

"That's a lovely tune Mrs. Malfoy." She commented.

"Thank you. I learned it from these small flower creatures when I was a child at one of the Black country cottages. They said I could always come back whenever I wanted to as long as I remembered the tune. Though I think it belongs to a cousin now." She continued on and Hermione joined in, wondering exactly how Luna had acquired that land for the cottage. She hummed as she gathered her magic, weaving the strings in and out of Narcissa's mind as she brushed.

She tightened the net slowly, lowering herself in Narcissa's mind as the room faded away. She was laying in the grass surrounded by wildflowers, whisperwillows humming beside her. She was at Hogwarts in what must have been the Slytherin common room, her eyes bright and locked on a tall boy with pale hair. She danced at her wedding, feeling blessed with a love match by the pure luck of it, as the blond man who loved her back gazed down at her. She was holding her son for the very first time, his beautiful gray eyes blinking before he started to wail. Then he was flying, speeding around on a toy broom so quickly it made her head spin as she chased him down the hall casting cushioning charms on any surface she could. Suddenly, he was leaving for the first time. He climbed aboard a red and black train while she gripped her husband's gloved hand too tightly.

It was at this point the memory stalled, something Hermione had never seen. She was suddenly aware of nothing but white empty space and a vanity as she continued to brush Narcissa's hair.

"Hm." The woman who spoke was much older than the one in her room. Her face watched Hermione in the mirror. "There is someone here."

"Yes there is." Hermione didn't pause as she regarded the way the fine platinum stands flowed through her fingers.

"I never thought it would be you. I never thought it _could_ be you." Mrs. Malfoy commented almost icily. "You have a remarkable capacity for forgiveness, child."

"Not really." She responded, setting down the brush on the vanity and beginning the motions of a complex braid. "I am just very selfish."

 **"You love him then?"** Narcissa questioned as she picked up the brush, tracing the gold carvings in the wood.

"With my whole heart." Hermione agreed, answering the rather unnecessary question.

"Good. I don't think anymore." Narcissa stated as plainly as could be. "I'm not much of myself anymore."

"I find that we are frequently changings." Hermione added, her attention turned to the white gold stands. They were so similar to her son's it was almost uncanny.

"Will-" The older witch hesitated, like it was a great struggle for her to finish the request. "Will you love him for me?"

"I can... But, you could come back." Hermione smiled lacing one ribbon of hair into the other with practiced hands. "And love him yourself."

"There is not enough left." Narcissa sighed just as Hermione finished off the tail of the waist length braid. "Please just… just let him know I love him... And that I am sorry."

"I will." Hermione responded, knotting an elastic around the braid just as she tied off the end of the spell. When she dropped her hands the room faded back into view, the dazed replacement pulling her hair over her shoulder with wide eyes.

"I don't usually wear it like this." She commented turning to face Hermione. "But sometimes, something new is nice. Thank you."

Hermione nodded, stepping back as Narcissa traced the weave in the mirror, barely responded as Draco kissed her goodbye. They exited the room in silence, padding down the hall and out to the back patio just as the sun broke over the tree line casting their shadows down the hill.

Draco paused, his hand opening and closing around his wand as he thought. "You don't have to tell-"

"I can't fix her." Hermione responded, hating the way his face fell. How his shoulders gathered that tension that would never really leave him. "There was too much damage and she was barely there.

He nodded, looking back at the windowed building. She could almost see his heart breaking. When she touched him he stiffened, his muscles like cold marble. But slowly he relaxed, letting her wrap around him, drawing warmth back into his body.

"She wanted to tell me that she loves you. And that she was sorry."

He pulled her to him tightly, tangling his hands into her hair as slow silent tears fell down her neck. She cooed to him softly, telling him stories from his mother's life until he sighed against her. Whispering words into her neck.

"This is going to work, isn't it?"

But this time it wasn't a question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On another note I have started a new fic on my profile (and somehow convinced my professional editor partner to edit for me eek!) It is rated M so i don't expect the cross over to be high. While originally started as a useless smut fic I can't leave well enough alone and it's randomly developed into a complex, dramione 8th year fic. What can I say, I am a flaw human being.
> 
> Feel free to join or not. Do let me know if you pop over though. I would love to see who sticks around vs not.
> 
> For all those opposed to smut, that is totally chill. Pop that follow on the author and I will be back at some point with a less sex focused fic. (But no less feel/ plot heavy, it's who I am!)
> 
> Ya'll have been great. Buh bye!
> 
> Note: the song that is being hummed in both the Whisperwillow and this chapter is Hedwig's Theme. Breaking the fourth wall and all.


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